


Sugar & Ice

by Fitzsimmons_Forever



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Betrayal, Deception, F/M, Feelings, Fluff, Heavy Angst, Mutual Pining, Season/Series 04, Snark, Teeth-Clenched Teamwork
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2020-03-06 00:28:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 51,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18839911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fitzsimmons_Forever/pseuds/Fitzsimmons_Forever
Summary: For a while, life had been going really great for me. Part of a wonderful team, good friends, a steady relationship. Then it all went badly wrong when I tried to get revenge on my evil professor. Suddenly, everything was very confusing. My friends were split up - more than before, which is saying something - and that 'steady' relationship was feeling more and more like an impending train wreck.And that was before I woke up one day in a whole world of trouble, and with only one person I could go to for help: Lilah Morgan.Yeah, I know what you're thinking. 'Fred, why would you team up with her, she's so evil and basically the worst, she's going to betray you!' Well, trust me, I really didn't have a choice...





	1. It Takes Two to Tango

**Author's Note:**

> This is set during early Angel season 4, around the time of "Apocalypse Now-ish" and diverges from canon immediately. Chapters will most likely be up weekly. I hope you enjoy it, and please leave feedback!

I kept my eyes squeezed shut, letting out a soft groan. My brain felt fuzzy. And not my normal ‘just woke up’ fuzzy. Well, a little bit of that, but it felt… blurred. I felt like I was forgetting something. Something important. It wouldn’t come. Probably just my imagination…

 

Unfortunately, my brain wasn’t the only part of me that felt weird. Everything felt kinda out of proportion, like I’d been stretched out on one of those old torture racks and then been buried under a pile of cushions. And my back and shoulders _ached._ Really ached, like I’d been lugging around a heavy backpack all day. But it wasn’t like I’d been doing anything particularly strenuous: I’d got up, gone to a house, ran away from some rats and then gone back to the hotel… and run off again. Maybe yesterday had been more stressful than I thought.

 

_Okay, that’s enough moping. Get the hell up, you have a job to do._

 

I grumbled uncooperatively at the voice in the back of my head. I could lie in a _little_ bit. I’d had a really tough week! And we didn’t even have any urgent cases to take care of. The biggest thing on our radar had been the plague of rats, and that wasn’t even our kind of thing to take care of! 

 

Judging by the way I was sprawled out in the middle of the bed - which felt especially comfortable today - Charles must already be up, probably hitting demons with an axe somewhere. Percussive therapy at its finest.

 

_Seriously, get up you lazy piece of trash._

 

I frowned: since when had my subconscious got so _mean_? I kept my eyes squeezed tightly shut and threw off the duvet, wincing at the oddly-bright light I could see through them. I tried to roll out of bed and stand up but lost coordination (today was clearly shaping up to be one of _those_ days) and ended up rolling face-first into the floor with a thud. And I _still_ felt weird.

 

“Ouch.” I muttered, then stiffened.

 

That wasn’t my voice…

 

That wasn’t my voice.

 

That wasn’t my voice!

 

_WHAT THE HELL???!!!_

 

This time I was in complete agreement with my subconscious. I opened my eyes. The surface I was lying on wasn’t the carpet at the Hyperion. It was a fluffy white rug. I looked left and right and swallowed. Different room. Completely different. Huge bedroom, high ceiling, windows, expensive furniture. Where the hell was I?

 

And my hair. I could see it out of the corners of my eyes. It was the wrong colour. Lighter. More blonde than brown. I whimpered. What was happening? I swallowed and put my hands on the rug - noting that they were larger than they should be -closing my eyes to breathe deep and pushing myself to my feet. The dull ache in my back and shoulders intensified and I winced. I opened my eyes and held my arms out in front of me. Longer than they should be. I swallowed and looked down. I blinked.

 

Wow.

 

No wonder my back ached if it had been lugging those things around. Jesus, was this how Cordy felt all the time? I swallowed, refocusing and trying to tamp down the awful feeling of dread pooling in my stomach. I was taller. My hair was a different colour. I had a different - kinda familiar now I thought about it - voice. My figure was _definitely_ wrong. I was wearing a blue silky nightshirt that I definitely didn’t own. And I wasn’t in the Hyperion. What the hell had happened to me?

 

Ok, deep breaths Fred, deep breaths. This is either a dream or it’s magic. First step: find a mirror and figure out what the hell had happened to me. Step two…

 

I could work out step two later.

 

I drew a deep breath, and looked around more carefully, trying to ignore my ever-louder subconscious screaming at me in panic. Okay, there was a wardrobe. That probably had a mirror in it. I focused on balancing with my new height, weight, and front-loading and gingerly picked my way over to the wardrobe. I swallowed and reached for the door handle, feeling my hand shaking. I pulled open the door, looking straight into the mirror fixed to the inside.

 

I blinked. I gaped.

 

No. No. No. 

 

“This is a dream.” I said the words, but it wasn’t my voice and I knew it was a lie. This couldn’t even be a nightmare: I didn’t hate myself this much.

 

I was staring into the shocked-looking face of _Lilah Morgan_. And now I knew why the voice I’d mistaken for my subconscious was being so mean and sounded familiar. Because it sounded just like Lilah Morgan.

 

What? How? Why? 

 

WHAT?

 

Why did I look like Lilah? I tried opening my mouth. The Lilah in the mirror opened her mouth. I stuck out my tongue. She stuck out her tongue. I reached out to touch the glass and she reached right back. I shivered slightly as my hand came into contact with the cold surface of the mirror. I pinched my arm. It hurt. Okay, definitely not a dream. Crap. This was bad. This was really bad.

 

_Ow!_

 

I stiffened upon hearing the voice in my head again. If I was… inside Lilah’s body and this thing was speaking with her voice, did that mean that it was…

 

_What the hell have you done to me, you body-snatching piece of trash?_

 

Oh, that was Lilah all right. Body-snatcher? That was rich! As if I wanted to be here! “What have _I_ done to _you_?!” I hissed at the face in the mirror. “I think you mean, what the hell have _you_ done to _me?_ ” This _had_ to be some scheme by Lilah which had backfired. She’d probably been trying to steal my soul or something and instead I’d ended up stuck inside an evil lawyer!

 

_Okay, listen._ Lilah’s voice sounded like it was shaking. _Just… just stay calm. We can talk about this. My firm has a great deal of resources, I’m sure that if we just… talk this out, then we can get you what you want AND you can… you can get out of my body, okay? Just… just tell me what you want._

 

I frowned. On Lilah’s face it looked completely different. What was Lilah talking about? She had to be tricking me. There was no way that I just _coincidentally_ woke up one day trapped in Lilah’s body, she had to be behind this. Somehow. Or someone at Wolfram and Hart was. I bit my lip and turned away from the mirror, ignoring Lilah for now and starting to pace. I needed a plan. I needed a plan.

 

_Alright, you don’t want to talk yet. That’s fine, I’ll talk._ Lilah was speaking evenly but there was an undercurrent of nervousness. _Who are you?_

 

I didn’t respond. I needed to think. I needed to get back into my old body. Right. If I was in Lilah’s body and Lilah was here too, then my body might still be asleep in the Hyperion. Right, all I had to go was go there and…

 

Explain to Angel, Charles and Lorne that Lilah Morgan turning up on their doorstep just as Fred entered a coma was a huge coincidence, and that actually _I am Fred_ and you should all trust me completely and help me. Except, given how Lilah had attacked Lorne, at this point they were more likely to attack first and ask questions never. I swallowed. Oh damn, I was in so much trouble.

 

And my body might not even be asleep at the Hyperion! It could have been magicked away or… or maybe someone else was out there running around in my body. Possibly whoever did this to me. I felt my skin crawl at the thought of somebody else walking around using my voice, pretending to be me… It was so wrong. And even if I found my body, what did I do? I doubted I could just grab my own arm and hop back in.

 

I really hated magic.

 

So, I was on my own. No Angel, no Charles, no Lorne. No backup, trapped in the body of my mortal enemy and with that mortal enemy apparently riding shotgun in the back of my head. Oh, God. I still needed a plan though. So, given that Lilah probably did this to me, Wolfram and Hart might know something, so I could probably just-

 

_WHO THE HELL ARE YOU AND WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY BODY?!_ Lilah screamed and I winced, putting my hands over my ears. Of course, it did nothing to block the noise. Lilah was stuck in my head. Or I was in hers. Either way, her voice was corkscrewing into my brain and giving me a headache. 

 

_Listen up whoever you are, I don’t know what you’re planning but-_

 

“SHUT UP LILAH!” I yelled at the mirror, wincing at the sound of her voice coming from my mouth. Or her mouth. Oh Lord, this was so confusing.

 

_So._ Lilah’s voice was soft all of a sudden. _You know me. Which means this isn’t an accident._

 

Great, she was still pretending like this wasn’t her fault. Trying to keep me off balance: I wasn’t going to let it get to me. I had to just ignore her. If I was going to work out what she did to me, I’d need her files. Maybe she had a computer somewhere…

 

I turned away from the mirror and crept through the apartment, walking slowly to keep from losing my balance again. I scanned the - admittedly extremely nice, guess evil did pay - apartment, looking for a computer or maybe a large folder marked ‘Evil Plan: Ruin Fred’s Life’. Although I saw no such envelope, I did see a computer. I walked quickly over to it and turned it on, fidgeting while I waited for it to boot up.

 

_Who on Earth could you be?_ Lilah mused. _I know you can’t be a man…_

 

“What makes you say that?” I asked, keeping my voice calm. I couldn’t give away any information: Lilah would find a way to use anything against me.

 

Lilah laughed. _Because, sweetie, I’m still wearing some articles of clothing and you haven’t started grabbing at me yet. Which means you’re a woman, and probably a prudish one at that._

 

I worked hard to keep the scowl off my face: clearly Lilah couldn’t read my mind, but she could obviously hear my voice, which meant she could probably see what I saw and feel what I felt. I couldn’t give her any more information. 

 

_And you don’t like me._ Lilah mused. _That much is obvious._

 

“That doesn’t exactly exclude many people from your candidate list.” I muttered. It had just slipped out.

 

_And you have balls. Metaphorically speaking. Fascinating._

 

The computer switched on and I clicked on the only user available. I smirked: Lilah had set her computer to automatically remember her username and password. What a sucker. I clicked login. There wasn’t much on here: a couple of unread emails (all of them with subjects that nauseated orjust plain horrified me), an internet explorer window left open to some antiques website and a handful of spreadsheets. Dammit. If the information on what Lilah did to me wasn’t here…

 

Then it would be at Wolfram and Hart. Probably in her office. The belly of the beast. I swallowed.

 

Usually, going there would be suicide. Madness. Completely, utterly ludicrous. But right now, I was desperate. And more importantly, I looked and sounded exactly like Lilah Morgan. I could sneak in. Search her office quickly, find out what they did to me, ideally how to reverse it and then get out of there. Plus, if I was ever going to try and sneak in, it would have to be now: the longer I waited, the more suspicious they’d get that ‘Lilah’ hadn’t showed up to work.

 

This was going to be fine. I just had to impersonate Lilah, walk into Wolfram and Hart, search her office for what I needed to undo whatever they did to me, then leave. Then I could be myself again and nobody would ever have to know. Easy. 

 

Except not at all.

 

_What are you looking for?_ Lilah asked, voice curious. _You could just ask me, then I can tell you and you can piss off. Much easier than whatever your current plan is._

 

“Just shut up Lilah.” I sighed. I walked back to the wardrobe, shuddering when I saw Lilah’s face -fixed in a doubtful, slightly nauseated expression - looking back at me. I examined the reflection critically. Obviously I’d have to change out of the silky nightshirt and into one of Lilah’s trademark suits, which I could see in this very wardrobe. Hair was a bit of a mess so that needed brushing, probably needed to apply some makeup…

 

_Finally taking stock of what we’ve got, I see._

 

I did my best to drown her out, grimaced, raised one arm and sniffed experimentally. Yuck. Lilah clearly hadn’t showered last night. Perfect. Just… perfect.

 

_Sorry, I’m more of a morning shower person. Hey, you can keep up that tradition if you like. Just step into the ensuite._

 

I felt my stomach twist. Gross. So gross. There was _no way_ that I was going to see Lilah naked (much less soap her down) if I could possibly avoid it. But if I went to Wolfram and Hart smelling to high heaven…

 

I bit my lip and slowly walked into the bathroom, flicking on the light. Lilah was staying quiet. I tried not to look at or think about the shower as I marched over to the sink and switched on the hot water. I soaked a flannel in hot water and carefully placed it on the edge of the sink. Then I closed my eyes and gingerly peeled off the silky nightshirt, putting it on the floor. I quickly rubbed my back to double-check I wasn’t wearing another layer, then - keeping my eyes tightly shut - washed my face, then my armpits.

 

_I knew it. Prude._ Lilah sounded smug. _C’mon! You don’t even want to peek at what I’m packing?_

 

“Do you ever shut up?” I demanded, tossing the flannel into the sink and feeling around for a towel. Should have thought to grab one of those before I disrobed. Oops.

 

_Well, usually I would but seeing as how I’ve been relegated to being a passenger in my own body and you’re apparently not even remotely interested in making the experience… worth my while, I’m resorting to other means of amusement._

 

I suppressed a shudder as her sultry voice bounced around the inside of my head. Finally finding a towel, I tied it around Lilah’s chest, then gingerly opened my eyes. Covered. Thank God. I retreated back to the bedroom, eyes settling on a chest of drawers. My skin crawled at the idea of searching through Lilah’s underwear, but unless I wanted to try walking around without it - the thought of which made both my common decency and my back protest - I had no choice. One horrifying minute later I had one red bra and a matching pair of knickers that it wouldn’t traumatise me too much to wear. I closed my eyes again and - trying not to retch - hooked my thumb around the pants Lilah had worn to bed, shimmying out of them and immediately pulling on the new pair. I opened my eyes again. Done. That had been easy. I eyed the bra, then the towel doubtfully. I was not looking forward to trying to do this with my eyes shut.

 

_For God’s sake, this is painful._ Lilah groaned. _I don’t give a damn what you see, just get on with it before I lose my mind._

 

But the day I took advice from Lilah was the day I truly lost all self-respect so I squared my shoulders, picked up the bra, closed my eyes and dropped the towel. Lilah didn’t make it easy to stay focused, but when I carefully opened one eye the Lilah in the mirror was at least wearing underwear. I sagged with relief. This was already torture.

 

_Well done. Slow clap. Congratulations. You managed to drag that out longer than I thought possible._

 

I scowled angrily into the mirror - noting unhappily just how hot that made Lilah look when she was standing there barely dressed - and grabbed a shirt, jacket and skirt to get into. One change of clothes (along with a scrounged up mobile phone, set of car keys and briefcase) later, I stood in front of the mirror fiddling with the shirt collar. I took a calming breath and looked straight into the mirror, practicing my cold, indifferent stare.

 

“Lilah Morgan.” I practiced my indifferent, dismissive look. “Head of Special Projects.”

 

_And the Oscar goes to…. who are you, again?_

 

I ignored Lilah, flipping open her phone to check through the contacts quickly. Thankfully, she’d included some photos. Under the work section there were a couple of people: some, like Gavin, I recognised. Others were unknown to me. I memorised as many names as I could, then flipped her phone shut and slipped it into a jacket pocket. 

 

_You can’t be serious._ Lilah sounded disbelieving as I left following one final search of her apartment, following signs for the car park. _You can’t be doing what I think you’re doing. That would be insane._

 

I found Lilah’s car and got in, putting her briefcase in the passenger side footwell. I started the engine.

 

_You’re going to Wolfram and Hart._ Lilah laughed as I started driving that way. _You crazy bitch. You do know that’s the only place where they’re gonna be able to undo whatever mojo you’ve done? Or, better yet, they’ll swap us round and you’ll be the powerless one. How does that sound, prude?_

 

“If you make me run us off the road,” I growled. Having Lilah as a constant companion was almost the worst part of this. Almost. “It might kill us both.”Lilah mercifully shut up.

 

I swallowed and tried not to think about what it would be like to be helpless, with Lilah in control. I also tried not to think about how - for all I knew - Lilah could take over at any moment.

 

\+ + + + + + +

 

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and stepped out of the car. Wolfram and Hart. Centre of all evil. Granted this was just the car park, but it was still evil. Had to remember that. Be careful. Don’t be nervous. Don’t let on that anything is different.

 

_Giving yourself a pep talk?_ Lilah sounded bemused.

 

I kept ignoring her and began making my way towards the lobby. I managed to keep my breathing steady as I entered the lobby, surveying it with what I hoped was an imperious expression. Reception desk, turnstiles, vigilant security guards, cameras. Lots of security. I suddenly felt colder, like the room was leeching the warmth out of the sunlight streaming in through the glass windows. I walked confidently towards the turnstiles, holding my ID badge to scan. 

 

“Good morning, Ms Morgan.” The security guard said neutrally, staring dead ahead.

“Good morning.” I smiled on reflex and the guard did a double take. I immediately wiped the smile off my face and kept going, berating myself internally. Dammit, I was so stupid! Of course Lilah wouldn’t be _nice_ to people. Stupid!

 

_Wait a second._

 

I passed through the turnstiles and strode to the nearest elevator.

 

_Wait one damn second._

 

The elevator doors pinged open and I stepped inside, pushing the close door button so nobody else could follow me.

 

_You’re female. You know who I am. You hate me._

 

Oh, I didn’t like where Lilah’s train of thought was going. I consulted the floor map on the elevator wall and pushed the button for the Special Projects floor. 

 

_You’re prudish. You obviously know about the mystical._

 

_You’re stupidly polite and sweet and sunny…_

 

_WINIFRED BURKLE!!!!!_

 

I couldn’t help but wince at the volume, and at the pure undiluted rage in her voice. 

 

_YOU BITCH! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING? GET THE HELL OUT OF MY BODY!!_

 

“Shut up.” I insisted weakly, wilting under the tirade. Lilah had been pretty calm a few minutes ago: why was the conclusion that I was apparently the one she’d accidentally sucked into her body so rage-inducing? I’d never done anything to her, or taken anything from her! She had no _reason_ to hate me! It’s not like I was evil.

 

On a worrying note, I very much doubted Lilah had managed to fake the pure, undiluted rage and hatred I swore I could feel behind her words… which cast doubt on the theory she’d deliberately done this to me. I swallowed: too late to turn back now without searching the office.

 

_Shut up?_ Lilah’s voice was softer now, more dangerous. _You steal my body. You trap me in the back of your head. And then. When I can do nothing but observe helplessly and speak to you, you pathetic insect, you tell ME to SHUT UP?_

 

“Clearly.” I said quietly, right before the elevator doors slid open. Lilah screamed angrily in the back of my head for a few seconds before quieting down. I think I managed to maintain a calm expression throughout. A few people muttered good mornings to me, and it took a great effort of will not to respond in kind. I managed. Just.

 

_So, why’d you do it?_ Lilah asked conversationally. I ignored her: there were people around, I couldn’t start talking to myself. _Did you finally_ g _et sick of looking like a pre-pubescent teenager and decided to upgrade?_

 

I scowled in response and the poor worker I happened to be looking at at that moment went white as a sheet and dashed off. Lilah’s office had to be around here somewhere…

 

_Or did you finally decide to reveal your true colours?_ Lilah mused. _Realised there was no point playing the goody-goody any more, so decided to trade in your old life for the lap of luxury?_

 

True colours? What was that supposed to mean? I wasn’t like Lilah. I wasn’t evil or horrible. I was always genuine. Always. I ignored her increasingly barbed attacks as I opened the door to Lilah’s office and stepped inside. Gavin was sitting patiently in a chair in front of Lilah’s desk.

 

“Good morning, Ms Morgan.” He inclined his head.

“Gavin.” I looked at him, doing my best to be contemptuous as I sat down. “You look like you have something to say, weasel.” I think that was more what Lilah sounded like.

Gavin didn’t bat an eyelid so I suppose I was doing better. Which was a depressing thought on multiple levels. “The supernatural events we were tracking yesterday, the ones Angel… retrieved the information from us about, fizzled out. No big conclusion. No more strange occurrences.”

“Any idea why?” I raised an eyebrow, trying to look like I had the faintest idea what he was talking about.

“Not yet.” Gavin replied.

“Then what the hell are you still doing in my office?” I kept the eyebrow raised.

 

_You go, girl!_ Lilah laughed in the back of my head. _That’s not half bad._

 

Gavin laughed nervously, stood up and started walking for the door. “Oh, and Gavin?” I called out as he reached the door. He turned around slowly. “Bring me the files on Winifred Burkle, Krevlorneswath and Charles Gunn. Yesterday.” Gavin nodded placatingly and left the office, shutting the door behind him.

 

I rested my head in my hands and rubbed my temples. God, being mean was exhausting. How could Lilah do that all day? I already felt worn-out, grumpy and guilty after one conversation’s worth of meanness. At least now, if I didn’t get the details on what Lilah had done from her office, it should be in the files Gavin brought back.

 

I began quickly skimming the documents left on Lilah’s desk, looking for anything connected to me, ignoring Lilah’s as best as I could. A list of potentially telekinetic individuals, a ludicrously expensive invoice from somebody named Cyvus Vail, and a stack of employee under review forms. Curious despite myself, I swiped the top one and glanced at it. Somebody named Knox. Scientist. Put under review for suspected unauthorised demon worship and ritual human sacrifice. From the notes Lilah had left on his conduct (which made me feel queasy just skimming) weighed against his skills, it looked like she was gonna give him a pass. That was enough reason to do the opposite: I ticked the box marked ‘transfer to a third-world dimension’ and put the form in the out tray.

 

_Seriously?_ Lilah’s voice was disbelieving. _You’re kidding me, right? This is what you’re doing? You’re pathetic. I mean, I already knew that but…_

 

I tuned out the irritating voice and searched the rest of the documents, then checked the out tray: no sign of anything related to me, or even anything related to any other member of the team. I had a sinking feeling in my stomach: maybe Lilah wasn’t responsible for this. Maybe there were other forces at work. Dark forces.

 

“Here’s the files.” Gavin entered without knocking and tossed them down on the desk. 

“What did I say about knocking?” I leaned back in my chair and steepled my fingers.

“That it’s for idiots?” Gavin looked confused.

“Exactly. So why didn’t you knock?” Gavin flushed red and backed out of the office, Lilah letting out a howl of laughter.

 

Okay, if my actions were starting to earn Lilah’s approval I needed to get out of here. Fast.

 

I found my file and opened it. I gulped. They knew almost everything about me. Where I’d grown up, gone to school, my parents’ names, how long I’d been in Pylea… they even had a bit titled personal fact file with my favourite foods and activities in it! Super creepy.

 

But under ‘active operations’ there was nothing listed. No attempts were being made to disrupt my life in any way. I swallowed. Lilah was innocent. Of this, at least. Wolfram and Hart hadn’t done this to me even by accident, and considering they hadn’t stopped me from entering the building… they didn’t know what had happened to Lilah either. So someone else was responsible for what happened to me.

 

“Dammit.” I muttered.

 

_Finally figuring out that I didn’t deliberately place you in control of my body whilst relegating myself to a helpless passenger?_ Lilah said drily. _Get this girl a Nobel Prize… although I suppose this raises the question of who the hell did do this to us. Who’d you piss off?_

 

“I haven’t pissed off anyone!” I protested. “What about you, you’re the evil one, you must piss off loads of people!”

_Oh, I do._ Lilah agreed. _But the people - and non-persons - I piss off are too scared of me to pull a stunt like this._

“So you’re useless then.” I rolled my eyes. “Great. What a surprise.”

 

_Look, Fred. If you want to get out, this is easy. You just need some help. Just head down to the lab. They’re experts on mystical events. They can run some tests, figure out a way to separate us._ Lilah said soothingly. _Neither of us wants this. They’ll be able to fix our condition like that._

 

I snorted. Sure. Trust Wolfram and Hart. And Lilah Morgan. No chance. I’d probably end up stuffed in a jar or turned into a mindless zombie or - worse - stuck in Lilah’s current position. No chance. But Lilah was right about one thing: I needed help. Whatever had happened to me was obviously mystical. But that wasn’t my game: I knew science, not magic. I needed a magical expert. Someone not affiliated with Wolfram and Hart. Angel, Charles and Lorne would attack me on sight and even if I went to them, they didn’t have a mystical specialist anymore. I’d just be embarrassing myself (poor little Fred needs saving _again_ ) in front of them for no reason, if I could even convince them it was me. 

 

No. I needed a real expert. Someone who knew everything there was to know about magic. Someone who’d do anything to help me _…_ if I managed to convince him of who I was. Someone I’d been trying really really hard to avoid thinking about for the last week because thinking about him made me feel complicated and dishonest and made my stomach do funny little backflips. 

 

I needed to go and see Wesley.

 

_Fred, what was that funny thing my stomach just did?_

 

There was the backflip right on schedule.

 

\+ + + + + + +

 

I drove out of the carpark, letting out a sigh of relief as I did so. I was out of Wolfram and Hart. And - as far as I could tell - nobody had suspected a thing. At least, nobody had batted an eyelid when I strode out of the lobby. Apparently Lilah had made a habit of not telling people about her comings and goings. 

 

_Great, we’re back in the car._ Lilah sighed. _Are you going to at least put the radio on?_

 

I ignored Lilah, trying to remember the best way to get from this part of town to Wesley’s place. I didn’t think it should take too long, depending on traffic… I just had to hope Wesley was in resting or doing research, and not out somewhere fighting evil. 

 

_So, are you going to say where we’re going or am I getting the silent treatment?_

 

“The second one.” I informed Lilah. The less she knew about what I was thinking, the better. It was bad enough that she apparently got to see, hear and feel everything I saw, heard or felt. I didn’t need to start keeping her updated on my train of thought too.

 

_Do you even have a plan or are you just driving?_ Lilah wondered idly. 

 

I focused on driving. But apparently, Lilah must have gotten bored because she decided not to leave me alone. _So, between us girls, how is Gunn in bed? I bet he’s rough. He looks like a rough type._

 

I felt the flush in my cheeks and resolutely ignored Lilah. A few jabs later, Lilah switched tactics and started singing. Terribly. It was awfully distracting. “If I switch on the radio,” I growled. “Will you stop singing?”

 

_If I get to choose the station._

 

“Deal.” I braked to a stop underneath an overpass, pulling over at the side of the road. Not far to go from here. I began fiddling with the radio, praying this would make Lilah finally shut up.

 

I heard a screeching noise and whirled around to see the driver’s side door on the car being ripped off and tossed away, followed by a hand swooping in to grab me. I tried to jerk away but I was too slow, and the cold hand dragged me out of the car, tossing me carelessly onto the road surface. 

 

I bounced and rolled a few metres, my entire body smarting. Ouch. I looked up, trying to ignore the pain flaring across my side and back. A familiar vampire in a black trench coat was leaning against Lilah’s car, arms folded, glaring at me. Angel! But why would he attack… oh. Right. 

 

_Well, there goes my insurance premium. Good luck, Fred!_

 

I took my cue from Lilah, putting a cocky smirk on her face. “Well, there goes my insurance premium.” I slowly got to my feet, wincing in pain as my legs protested. 

“Hey there, Lilah.” Angel glared at me resolutely. “How’ve you been?”

“I’ve been better.” I said truthfully. Should I just tell him? Try to convince him of who I was? No, even if it worked I would have the earlier problems with embarrassment. And I doubted Angel would want me to go to Wesley to get help fixing this, even if he was my best chance. I could tell Angel what had happened if I got into any real danger. “Yourself?”

 

“Oh, can’t complain.” Angel shrugged, eyes fixed on me. “I’m better than you’re about to be.”

I licked my lips and swallowed. I’d forgotten how scary Angel could be. “Why’s that?”

“Because all that information you gave me yesterday, about our apocalyptic events…” Angel’s eyes gleamed. “Turned out to be a bust. No big beastie. No anything. Just me, standing there like an idiot, armed for an apocalypse that didn’t show up.”

“Man.” I shook my head. “You just can’t get the help these days, huh? You must be devastated. World’s not ending. Bummer.”

“So what was the point?” Angel stepped forwards and I took a reflexive step backwards. “Because I can only think of one reason why you’d do that.”

 

“Please, do go on.” I raised an eyebrow and tried to look nonplussed. I had a feeling the bead of sweat rolling down my forehead ruined the effect.

“Somebody with a lot of resources organised a variety of supernatural events that looked like the markings of an impending apocalypse.” Angel paced slowly. “Events that led me straight to one place. Along with every other combat-capable person on my team. Which conveniently meant there was nobody around to keep an eye on what you were doing, or another very important person.”

“Is there a point to all this?” I tried to look bored. Wait… he thought of me as not combat-capable? I wasn’t somebody he wanted on the front lines? That was ridiculous! I staked vampire alongside everybody else. That stung worse than anything Lilah had said.

 

_He’s wrong, Fred._ Lilah said slowly. _That info I gave him was genuine. Not sure why he thinks it isn’t. Just a word of warning. Right now, I don’t want him to snap your neck like a twig._

 

Assuming Lilah wasn’t lying, that was interesting. Which was a pretty big assumption. “The point, Lilah.” Angel stepped forwards menacingly. “Is that while my team were off chasing your fictional apocalypse, a friend of mine has mysteriously vanished. Nowhere to be seen. So I’m gonna ask you this once. Where. Is. Fred?”

 

I swallowed. Oh dear. Well, I guess that meant there wasn’t a body double of me walking around somewhere. Or at least, not at the Hyperion. Oh, God. Well I definitely couldn’t say who I was now, there was no way he’d believe me. What would Lilah say?  


“Gee, did you try the library?” I put on an expression of mock thoughtfulness. “Taco stand? Maybe the nearest cave complex? Or how about-” Angel blurred forwards and I heard a horrible crack as his hand connected with the side of my face. I was knocked off my feet and crashed to the floor, one entire side of my face stinging. I let out a whimper, covering my cheek with one hand. I blinked.

 

Angel had hit me. He’d hit me. Oh, God.

 

“Very funny, Lilah.” Angel hunkered down next to me and I tried to propel myself backwards but one hand shot out to grab my shoulder, keeping me pinned to the ground. “Only thing is, I don’t consider Fred’s disappearance to be a laughing matter. Do you really think I’m stupid enough to believe it’s a coincidence that while I’m chasing the lead you gave me, Fred vanishes into thin air? Nobody’s seen her, and we haven’t heard anything from her. So. Where is she?”

 

“I don’t know.” I lied, wishing I had Lilah’s talent for it. “We didn’t do anything to her, dammit. Why wasn’t she with you at the Hyperion before you all moved out? Maybe if you figure that out, you’ll figure out where she is.”

Angel cocked his head. “How’d you know she wasn’t at the Hyperion?”

My mouth went dry. Right. Lilah would have no way to know that I’d run away from the hotel after arguing with Charles. 

 

Oh, crap. 

 

_Nicely done, Tex._ Lilah sounded resigned. _This is the part where he beats the crap out of us, if you were wondering._

 

“Umm…” Was all I managed to get out before Angel lunged forwards to grab me by the throat. 

“Talk, now.” Angel growled. “I don’t kill humans, but that doesn’t mean I won’t hurt them. Particularly humans like you. So. Last chance.”

 

Oh, God. I couldn’t convince him Lilah was innocent. Guess I was gonna have to do this. Reveal the horrifyingly embarrassing mess I’d ended up in.

 

“Wait. I can explain!” I choked out. Angel let go of my throat and I drew in a gasp of air. I massaged my throat gently, swallowing. Here went nothing. 

 

“Angel, I lied to you.” I paused. “I _am_ Lilah Morgan.” I blinked. Wait. That wasn’t what I’d meant to say. I’d wanted to tell him who I was.

 

“I’m Lilah Morgan.” No. No, no, no! No, this couldn’t be happening! That wasn’t what I was trying to say! I wasn’t Lilah Morgan, I was Winifred Burkle, so _why couldn’t I say it?_ “I’m Lilah, I’m Lilah, my name is Lilah Morgan, wait Angel I’m-”

 

Then Angel started hitting me. Over and over and over.

 

And over. 

 

What felt like a lifetime later, I was curled into a ball by the side of the road, every inch of exposed skin on fire. Angel hadn’t been merciful. “Please.” I whispered. “ _Please_. I’m Lilah Morgan.” I’d longago given up hope that I’d be able to say my name, but I had to keep trying. 

 

“You’ve gone nuts.” Angel shook his head in disgust, stepping away from me. I let out a sob of relief. Angel wiped his bloody knuckles on his jacket then casually strolled out of my line of sight. I heard a screeching sound like tearing, ruptured metal coming from the direction of the car, then a thud as something was tossed to the floor. “But either you’re telling the truth, or you won’t talk. So you’ve won a reprieve. But this isn’t over. Not even close. You’d better _pray_ we find Fred, Lilah. Or else.” I heard him walk away.

 

And that opened the floodgates. I curled in on myself, sobbing with loss, with heartache, with _pain._ He hadn’t recognised me. Angel hadn’t known me. At first I’d been trying to be Lilah, but then when he was attacking me I’d tried _so hard_ , and I know that I hadn’t been able to say my name, but I’d still tried and nothing had worked. I felt the tears streaming down my cheeks, mixing with the odd drop of blood. Every part of me hurt.

 

And I couldn’t even say my own name. Couldn’t tell anyone who I was. 

 

_Are you alright, Fred?_ Lilah’s voice held perhaps the slightest touch of sympathy. I closed my eyes and shook my head in response. _Shh. It’s okay, Fred. You’re gonna be okay. But you have to stand up, can you do that? Can you stand up?_

 

I nodded numbly, stumbling to my feet. The whole world spun and I collapsed backwards against the car. I looked at the massive hole Angel had punched in the bonnet and the engine beneath it. Guess I wouldn’t be driving anywhere. “Winifred Burkle.” I said clearly. Okay, I could say the words. 

 

“Winifred Burkle. I am _Lilah Morgan!_ ” I howled with frustration. Why couldn’t I just say it? 

 

“I. Am.” I left a long pause. “Lilah Morgan.” Goddammit, why? What had I done to deserve this? I wasn’t Lilah, I didn’t want to be Lilah, I didn’t want to look like her or live her life or not be able to say who I was, I wanted to be _me,_ I wanted my life with _my_ friends and I wanted to be safe andcared for and loved, not _hated_ and _attacked_ … I was crying again. It was stupid. It wouldn’t solve anything. But it wouldn’t stop. 

 

Whatever this magic was… it was taking my very identity away. Piece by piece. My body. My name. What if it got worse? What if I started losing my memories and gaining Lilah’s? What if I forgot who I was?

 

What if it makes me stop caring? What if it made me _want_ to be Lilah Morgan?

 

I needed help. I had to fix this. 

 

_Fred._ Lilah’s voice was gentle. _You had a plan, you were going somewhere before. Can you keep doing that? Standing here won’t fix this._

 

I knew Lilah was just being nice to take care of herself, but it still made me feel marginally better. I nodded mutely and - wrapping my arms around my bruising, damaged, horribly painful chest - started walking. I had to get to Wesley. He might know how to fix this. He might be able to fix me.

 

If he managed to recognise me first.

 

I prayed that he would.


	2. Three's a Crowd

I was being cowardly. Really cowardly. I was pointlessly delaying. Lilah had made it clear on the walk over here - with alternating soothing and harsh arguments - that fretting and standing still wasn’t going to do anything. If I wanted to be _me_ again, to be able to say my own name again properly, I needed to fix this. So it was stupid that I was avoiding going inside. I was brave. I was stronger than fear. Much stronger. 

 

But how was I supposed to convince Wesley that I was really me? I looked like Lilah, sounded like Lilah… to an outside observer I _was_ Lilah. I couldn’t even tell him who I was directly! How did I show him I was me? I suppose the logical thing to do was to tell him about things nobody else could possibly know about… I flushed slightly. Because that idea was reminding me about what had happened when we’d regressed to teenagers. 

 

I couldn’t deny that I’d found him _intensely_ attractive. Handsome. Brave. Smart. Kind. He’d taken care of me. And it seemed like he might have felt the same way about me (although I’d only figured that part out when I was lying awake in bed after the event, dying of embarrassment). I’d never thought of Wesley in that way until recently. Back when we’d been working together, I certainly hadn’t thought that Wesley might feel that way about me: I figured he’d be attracted to refined, elegant women like Virginia (whom Cordy had told me about). And then after I’d kissed Charles _everyone_ had been acting like Wesley had obvious feelings for me, but I’d brushed them off. We’d just been really close friends. Then I’d gone to him for help, out of the blue, after telling him never to contact any of us again… and he’d helped without question. And there’d been a spark. A spark I desperately tried to ignore.

 

Then after our teenage selves went on their little adventure, that intense feeling of attraction I’d had for him? It hadn’t gone away when my memories came back. So I’d been trying not to think about Wesley as much as I possibly could. And failing miserably. And now here I was again, outside his building, trying to think about how best to go in there and convince him to help me. I decided I was going to avoid the memory spell subject all together. I’d use less complicated events to convince him: how he’d looked after me in Caritas when Charles’ friends attacked us, or how I’d tried to make him feel better after the mess with Billy or maybe that time when the head-stealing math demons had mistaken us for a couple…

 

Thinking about it, those suddenly seemed like much more complicated events than I remembered at the time. 

 

_Oh look, you’re blushing. How predictable. Hurry up._ Lilah made a yawning noise.

 

I really had to hope that some more complex magic at work wasn’t going to stop me reminding Wesley of memories we shared. Because if it did then… then I was screwed. Utterly screwed. Because I’d already tried writing my name on some paper in Lilah’s briefcase and faced the sameend result. There was no loophole around it. I couldn’t tell them who I was in writing. Oh, God what if it didn’t work? Then I would be well and truly doomed. 

 

I set my jaw determinedly. I was going to do this. I was going to march in there, knock on that door and convince Wesley it was me. Assuming he didn’t laugh in my face. Or assume it was a trick. Or recognise me then tell me that any debt he owed me was paid. Positive thoughts, Fred, positive thoughts. I marched inside, up the stairs and hesitated outside his door. I suddenly felt a lot less brave than I had outside. I prayed that Wesley would recognise me, that _somebody_ would see who I was, that somebody would be there for me.

 

_This is a bad idea._ Lilah chuckled, but it sounded forced. _You should go to your friends. Convince them better. They’ll help you. Wesley hates all of you now, remember?_

 

“Wesley _is_ my friend.” I murmured under my breath. He always had been. Always. I took a deep breath and knocked on the door. Hopefully he was in. I heard hurried footsteps on the other side of the door. The door swung open. And there he was: Wesley. Almost exactly as I remembered him. Bright, deep, intelligent blue eyes. The rugged good looks. I felt butterflies fluttering in my stomach.

 

_Oh, give me a break._ Lilah complained.

 

Wesley looked happy. Surprised, but happy. Expectant. For exactly one second after the door opened. Then he saw me. The slight smile slipped off his face, replaced by a grim expression. “Lilah.” He said quietly. He sounded disappointed… who had he been expecting? “What are you doing here? I thought I’d made myself clear.”

 

Oh, Lord, how did I do this?

 

“Hi Wesley.” I waved instinctively, then fought the urge to kick myself and shyly withdrew my hand. I had to focus on convincing him. “I have… that is to say I mean…it’s kind of a funny story. Can I come in?”

 

Wesley blinked. His brow furrowed. His eyebrows knit together. He looked me up and down. His eyes widened. No way. Please, please tell me that-

 

“Fred?” Wesley said softly, hesitantly. My heart stopped beating. He’d just known. I hadn’t had to give him evidence or convince him or plead with him. He’d just known. And today had been so awful and so horrible, trapped inside of someone else’s body, forced to live their life, to have people - my friend - look at me and not _see_ me… this one thing, this recognition, meant more to me than _anything_. 

 

Which was why I leapt forwards and tackled Wesley into a hug. After a second’s hesitation, he gently wrapped his arms around me and hugged me back. I started rambling despite myself. “When we were attacked in Caritas, you looked after me all night and then you helped me into a cab and made sure I got home and that I felt alright! After Billy attacked you, I told you that I knew you were a good man! And, when the demons who tried to steal my brain-”

 

“Fred.” Wesley said gently, pulling away slightly so I could see him better. So I could see the reassuring smile he was giving me. “Don’t worry. I know it’s you.”

“How?” I whispered.

Wesley looked flustered all of a sudden. “The way you knocked. It’s the same way you always knock. And the way you stood and waved and spoke… it was just you.”

 

_Oh, c’mon._ Lilah groaned.

 

“You’re amazing.” I whispered and I wish more than anything that it could be my voice, and not Lilah’s saying the words. Because I meant them. “You’re incredible.”

“Watcher training, think nothing of it.” Wesley paused for a second and I gently extricated myself, brushing my loose strands of hair behind my shoulders. Wesley examined me more closely.

 

“Fred, you’re hurt.” Wesley whispered, only now spotting the early bruises that must be starting to flower all over me. “What happened?”

I swallowed. “It’s kind of a funny story.” I managed, and then I was crying, heaving sobs, because the memory of Angel attacking me was so vivid, so _awful_ and… oh, God. Wesley’s arm was around my shoulders and I let him lead me inside, gently guiding me down onto his sofa. I moved to hug my legs to my chest, realised that in this skirt and with Lilah’s longer legs I couldn’t, and sat awkwardly instead.

 

I stared at the coffee table while Wesley busied himself just out of my line of sight, my eyes fixed on the magazine Wesley had left out, half-open to a page. The magazine containing my article. I sniffled, remembering the long hours spent writing it. How good it had felt to get back into the science world. How wonderful it had been to discover I hadn’t lost my knack for it, to be published and asked to present… it felt like so long ago that I’d stood on that stage and prepared my little speech. 

 

Like a lifetime ago, almost. Everything had been so much simpler then.

 

“Fred.” Wesley said gently. I turned to look up at him, blinking. He was holding two mugs, steam curling gently out of them. “Herbal tea. I find it helps.”

“Sure.” I nodded and took the mug, sipping it. It was nice. Soothing. I was dimly aware of Wesley sitting down at the far end of the sofa from me, regarding me carefully. 

“Worried I’m not me?” I whispered nervously. “I am, I can prove it again, I-”

“No.” Wesley said gently and I stopped rambling. “I’m just… part of me is getting my head around it. What’s happened to you, that is.”

“Part of you?”  
“The other part is trying to work out exactly how I’m going to make the bastards who attacked you pay.” Wesley said quietly.

 

I let out a brief, bitter laugh. “You wouldn’t do that… Angel did this.” Wesley blinked in shock, then shuffled up the sofa and silently put one arm around me, hugging me softly. I let him do it, revelling in the comfort. Somebody recognised me. Somebody knew my name. I was still me. I could still do this. I was still Fred.

 

“I think,” Wesley said eventually. “That it might be best if you told me everything.”

I nodded, staring into my mug, which contained only dregs. Wesley gently pried the mug out of my hands, replacing it with the other untouched mug he’d been carrying. I sipped it with a nod of thanks, trying to think about the best way to explain what that happened.

 

“When I woke up this morning… I woke up… like this.” I gestured to myself and Wesley nodded seriously, eyes fixed on mine. “In Lilah’s apartment, in her bed. Wearing her clothes. Everything. I got up and I figured, naturally, that because it was Lilah, odds were she was somehow responsible for what had happened to me. So I searched her apartment looking for evidence and found nothing. I reasoned that if the information wasn’t in her home, it had to be at Wolfram and Hart. So I grabbed some of Lilah’s clothes and I went there straightaway.”

 

“You infiltrated Wolfram and Hart?” Wesley blinked, then smiled slightly. “Very impressive.”

“Thanks.” My brow furrowed. “But I didn’t find anything there, in her office. Then I checked the file they had on me and it didn’t say anything about any ‘active operations’ being conducted against me. So… then…”

 

I turned to study my feet intently. “I decided that I was clearly being affected by something magical and powerful… and Angel Investigations doesn’t have a mystical expert anymore. And I really needed help so I… I came to you.” I looked up at Wesley. He had no reason to help me. I’d told him to never come near me or any of us again after Angel had tried to kill him. Then he’d showed up with Angel when we’d had no idea what to do, warning us about Connor in the bargain. And he’d made sure we could help Cordy and Connor when they got attacked. And then I’d gone to him for help dealing with Seidel and… the list of favours just went on and on. “Will you help me?”

 

“Of course, Fred.” Wesley said matter-of-factly.

 

_Man, I wish I had a bucket back here._

 

I smiled gratefully. “On my way here Angel ambushed me. And they know that I’m missing. And they thought Lilah was responsible after the lead Angel chased up yesterday led nowhere…”

“That was a bit of an anti-climax.” Wesley said evenly.

I started. “Angel asked you for help?”

“Yes, he thought it was going to get quite bad.” Wesley mused. “But, as you said, nothing. No monster. And all the supernatural activity we were observing seemed to fizzle out very quickly. Angel assumed it was a trick on Lilah’s part, and we went our separate ways. Please, keep going.”

 

“Right.” I nodded. “So Angel started interrogating me, demanding to know what I’d done with ‘Fred’… and when I didn’t tell him he… got violent.” I sipped at my tea, hoping I was doing a good job of hiding that my hands were trembling. I doubted it. 

 

“And you didn’t want to tell him who you really were?” Wesley asked slowly.

“At first, I didn’t. I figured I could fix it without too many people having to know what a mess I’d gotten myself into. It was embarrassing. Then,” I swallowed. “When he was giving me my last warning, I wanted to tell him who I was… _and I couldn’t.”_

  
Wesley raised an eyebrow.

 

“As in, I literally couldn’t. Watch. I’m about to try to say my name. I am Lilah Morgan.” I held up both hands helplessly. Wesley frowned. “Any combination of words. Any gaps. When I try to write it or anything… all I can ever say is I am Lilah Morgan. I can’t identify myself to anyone.”

“That’s… very unusual.” Wesley murmured, and I felt my stomach sink. He was worried. I could tell he was. He hadn’t been expecting this.

 

“I have no idea what’s happened to me. But I want it to stop. I want to be myself again. Desperately.”

Wesley nodded slowly. “Well… this seems to be some kind of body-switching spell - most likely a magical Katra - combined with a powerful mental compulsion. Lilah is probably out there right now, using your body to-” I shook my head and Wesley trailed off, raising an eyebrow.

 

_Please. As if I’d want to take your body. Being pre-teen once was enough._

 

“Lilah’s not stolen my body.” I said hesitantly.

“How do you know?” Wesley leaned forwards.

“That’s the other funny part of the story.” I tapped the side of my head meaningfully. “Because ever since I woke up this morning, there’s been this really snarky, familiar, evil voice in the back of my head yelling at me.”

Wesley blinked. “You mean to say…”

“Lilah’s stuck in my head.” I nodded solemnly. “And she’s not being very understanding.”

 

_I’m stuck in your head? Try, you’re possessing my body!_

 

“Fascinating.” Wesley hesitated. “I mean… horrible. It’s almost like you’re…”

“Possessing her?” I finished miserably. Wesley nodded very slightly. “Lilah just said.”

“Are you sure it’s her, and not somebody pretending to be her?” Wesley asked quietly. “Just best to be sure.”

 

“You got any proof, Lilah?” I said out loud, hating how crazy I looked. “Maybe some evil spiritual ID?”

 

_Tell Wesley that when I told him Justine was going to be attacked by vampires in that nightclub, he hesitated before deciding to warn her. That’s how I knew I wasn’t wasting my time trying to recruit him._

 

I frowned. “Lilah just said something about you hesitating to warn Justine in a nightclub that she was about to be attacked by vampires?”  
Wesley’s eyes narrowed. “It’s her.” He leaned back and let out a deep breath. “Hello, Lilah.”

 

_Tell him ‘hey’ from me._

 

“For the record,” I stammered, ignoring Lilah. “I don’t blame you. For hesitating to warn Justine. I was just about ready to kill her myself when she told us what she did to you. I got in a really mean punch on her.”

“Thank you.” Wesley smiled ruefully. “For both of those things.”

“I wish I’d broken her nose.” I scowled. “She deserved worse.”

“Maybe.” Wesley shrugged. “She was a pawn, just like I was.”

“She wasn’t like you.” I said determinedly. Because Wesley had thought he was doing what was right and even though he should have told us, even though he’d been stupid and wrong and done so much damage, that made him better than her. A whole lot better. “Not one bit.”

 

_Hey, Fred, hate to remind you about our problem but when you’re done reminiscing about the good ol’ days before you abandoned Wesley forever, we kinda have a situation to resolve._

 

“Shut up.” I growled. Wesley raised an eyebrow. “I was talking to Lilah.” I explained.

“I gathered.” Wesley drummed his fingers on the coffee table, expression thoughtful. “If Lilah is in your head… that changes the scenario quite a bit.”

“What are you thinking?” I leaned forwards attentively. 

 

“Clearly this isn’t a Katra at work. Or any other typical kind of body-swapping magic. This is something I’ve never seen before. Something very powerful.” Wesley looked at me piercingly. “Fred, it’s important you think very carefully. What do you remember about yesterday? You woke up this morning as Lilah Morgan, but what happened yesterday?”

 

I stiffened. “Oh my God, is it still 2002?”

 

_Damn, you are such a nerd._

 

Wesley chuckled. “Yes, it’s still 2002.”

“Oh. Ok. Phew. Sorry.” I smiled sheepishly.

“It’s quite alright.” Wesley smiled in return, looking at me expectantly.

 

Right. Recap.

 

“Day was pretty normal. Not much special.” I mused. “I headed out to tackle what we figured was a haunting, but which turned out to be a giant infestation of rats. Hundreds of them, coming from everywhere.” Wesley looked nauseous.

 

“Then after I got back to the Hyperion…” I hesitated. I didn’t know why but… I didn’t want to tell Wesley about my argument with Charles. It’s not like it was wrong for me to do that. I was allowed to tell my friend about an argument I had with my boyfriend. There wasn’t a rule against it. But I had a nasty, nagging feeling that doing it would be wrong. Very wrong, somehow. “I got into an argument and left alone.”

 

“A normal argument?” Wesley leaned back, expression thoughtful. He hadn’t been able to tell, had he? Surely he hadn’t been able to tell just from what I’d said. Because it hadn’t been a normal argument at all, it had been an awful, vicious fight, the worst I’d ever had with Charles by a long shot. “No curses or ancient spell books thrown at you during the proceedings?” Wesley continued, smiling jokingly.

 

I really needed to stop overthinking things. “Normal fight. Curse-free. Then I left and…” I trailed off. I frowned. I focused. I couldn’t remember _anything_ after that. I must have gone somewhere… but the last place I remembered being was exiting onto the pavement outside the Hyperion, not being sure where I was heading. Then it all got fuzzy. “I don’t remember. Everything goes fuzzy.”

 

Wesley nodded confidently. “Can you ask Lilah whether she remembers last night?”

 

_Tell him that I can hear him, that he’s a moron and that I remember everything about last night perfectly, right up until I fell asleep and found a naive, ridiculous girl in control of my body._ _And not in the enjoyable way._

 

I blushed despite myself. I hated Lilah. “She says that she can hear you and that she remembers everything from last night.”  
Wesley nodded. “Anything else?”

“She said that you were a moron.” I said tentatively, avoiding eye contact. Wesley rolled his eyes then frowned, clearly thinking. I waited patiently.

 

“Alright then. Here’s my thinking.” Wesley said slowly a few seconds later. “The fact that you have a gap in your memory and Lilah doesn’t implies to me that you were the real target and that Lilah is just someone who got caught in the crossfire.” I nodded.

 

_Told you._

 

“Something must have happened to you during the missing time. A curse, a mishap with an eldritch artefact, a rit…” Wesley trailed off.

“Wesley, tell me.” I said calmly, worry gnawing at my insides. “I can take it.”

“A ritual sacrifice.” Wesley said quietly. “Sometimes souls can be displaced by such things and flung back into the world. Usually as ghosts… but there are other outcomes. But it’s unlikely. Very, very unlikely. You’d usually keep your memories in that scenario.”

I nodded. “So, what’s the plan?”

 

“Simple.” Wesley stood up and smiled reassuringly. “I’m going to call Angel and explain what happened. Then, since it’ll be safe for you to walk the streets again, we can all split up to trace your movements from yesterday, try to work out what happened and how to reverse it.” Wesley beamed. I felt bad for shaking my head vigorously, seeing the smile slip off his face.

 

“I don’t want anyone else to know.” I said quietly, then sped up. “It’s just that… it’s another situation that silly little Fred got herself into that I need saving from and… they’ll never respect me if I keep going to them for help with everything.”

“Fred, of course they respect you.” Wesley frowned, sitting back down. “They all know just how capable you are.”

“Angel point-blank told me - thinking I was Lilah - that he doesn’t think of me as combat-capable.”I fixed him with a hard stare. “And I already told you before about how they didn’t respect that I needed… closure. Nobody would have batted an eye about Angel or Charles going after revenge. An incident like this, that happened the one time I ran off… they’d never forget it, not really.”

 

“Fred,” Wesley looked sceptical. “I understand what you’re saying but… this could have happened to anyone. Not just you. And every time you go out there as Lilah… you’re in real danger.” He looked at my bruises - which still hurt like I’d been hit my a truck - meaningfully.

“And how do you think Angel will feel if he finds out he beat me to a pulp?” I asked, shaking my head. “The guilt would eat him alive. He doesn’t deserve that.”

“But… the risk you could get hurt is-” Wesley cut himself off when I glared at him.  
“I don’t need protection.” I said firmly. “I just need your help.”

Wesley nodded, grimacing ever so slightly. “It’s your decision.”

“It is.” I nodded, smiling slightly. “And I’m grateful to you for accepting it.”

 

“Well,” Wesley frowned. “Not to overstep any boundaries… but if we’re not telling Angel and the others-”

“Which we’re not.”

“- then out there isn’t the safest place for you. Angel will be looking for you if he doesn’t turn up any new leads. Wolfram and Hart will almost certainly start looking for you soon. And who or whatever did this to you in the first place is still out there… who knows what they want. So, in my opinion-”

 

I jerked round as there was a sudden hammering at the door. Wesley looked at it reluctantly. “You should probably take care of that.” I told him. 

“Are you sure? You're… this is important.” Wesley said sincerely. 

“That kinda sounds like it is too.” I tried to ignore the fuzzy feeling I suddenly had. “I can be patient.”

Wesley nodded and stood up, walking over to the door. He looked through the peephole and I saw him stiffen against the door. He turned to face me. Was it a demon? My secret nemesis? Lawyers? 

 

“It’s Gunn.” Wesley sounded resigned.

My heart froze in my chest. Not now. Not like this. Everything was so screwed up and complicated already, I didn’t… he couldn’t see me like this. Everything would get so much worse. He’d want to try and protect me again if he saw through it… and if he didn’t he’d hate me. I didn’t want that. I wasn’t sure I could take that, on top of everything. “I need to hide!” I hissed, looking around.

 

Wesley pointed at the doors on different sides of the apartment. “Bedroom. Cupboard. Take your pick.”

“Thanks.” I hesitated. “Please… get rid of him. But be nice. He must be worried sick about me.” I felt a guilty pang. Which was ridiculous because I had nothing to feel guilty for. Right?

“Yes.” Wesley’s face hardened. “I imagine he is.” What had I done now?

 

_Smooth, Fred. Really smooth._

 

I ignored Lilah as best I could and dashed into the bedroom, shutting the door behind me and putting my ear to the crack.

 

I heard the apartment door swinging open. 

 

“Wesley.”

“Gunn. I told you never to come here again.” Off to a _great_ start.

“You don’t have a problem showing up at the hotel every other day.” That didn’t seem fair, Wesley was helping… we’d never have found Angel without him, for starters.

“It must be such a burden for you to keep receiving decisive aid at pivotal moments.” No need for sarcasm.

“I don’t have time for this.” Then what are you doing here, Charles? And why can’t you two be civil for once if you want to save time? You used to be friends! 

“Then leave.” And you’re just as bad, Wesley.

 

_I should have brought popcorn._ Lilah chuckled. _These two really love going at it._

 

I bit down on the urge to silence her. Last thing I needed was Charles discovering me and thinking Wesley was hiding Lilah in his bedroom or - worse - recognising me and kicking off the aforementioned chain of feared events.

 

“Not until I got what I came for.”

“And what would that be?” Wesley’s tone had become guarded.

“Fred.” Oh, damn. Of course that was why he was here.

“She’s not here.” Wesley’s voice was calm and even.

“Sure about that?” That stung. Why would Charles think I was hiding from him? 

 

I mean, sure, I was _technically_ hiding from him, but I had a really good reason!

 

“I think I would have noticed if she was hiding under my sofa.”

“Yeah, you do like to keep tabs on her. Mind if I come in and look around?”

“Yes.”

“Well I ain’t asking.” Oh, no. I crossed my fingers. Please don’t fight, please don’t fight, please don’t fight…

 

“Fine. Come in.” I breathed a sigh of relief.

 

_C’mon Fred, where’s your sense of fun?_ Lilah sighed. _Two strapping young lads duking it out on your behalf… even you must get a kick out of that._ That was ridiculous. I wasn’t the reason they were fighting… it was the mess with Holtz and Connor. I wasn’t the reason they were fighting. No way. Couldn’t be. Zero percent chance.

 

“Are you going to give me any context, or just snoop about my apartment?” Wesley asked drily. Voices still far away from the bedroom. I glanced around in here quickly: that looked like an ensuite bathroom and there was a wardrobe. Plenty of spots to hide if I had to.

 

“We got back from our pointless vigil yesterday and Fred wasn’t at the hotel. Never came back. Angel’s worried Lilah set everything up to distract us so she’d have a chance to grab Fred.”

 

_Oh, please. The whole world doesn’t revolve around Angel. Such a narcissist. Guy gets mentioned in a couple of apocalyptic prophecies and it completely goes to his head._

 

“And _you’re_ about to tell me you, in your infinite wisdom, disagree?”

“Fred left earlier in the day yesterday. That’s when we lost track of her.” ‘Lost track’? What was I, a _pet_? “I thought she might have come here.” 

“Why on Earth would Fred come here?” Wesley said calmly. His voice definitely sounded closer to me.

“You have a history of… ‘helping’ Fred when she’s at her lowest. Her most vulnerable. You enable her.” _Seriously_ , Charles?

“And you think I saw her yesterday? What, helped her disappear off the face of the earth? I’m not a spy, Gunn.”

“Maybe you helped her. Maybe she just stuck around for a while. Vented.”

“What would she have to vent about?” Wesley asked, voice innocuous but in a very non-innocuous way.

The footsteps halted. But they were close to me. Okay, time for a tactical repositioning. I moved over to the wardrobe, pulling it half open so I was ready to leap in when the time came. This was purely tactical. Tactics were the reason I was preparing to hide in the wardrobe.

 

I heard Charles’ voice. “Keep pushing. Keep on going. See where it gets you.”

“If it’s somewhere without you, it can’t be too bad.” They were right outside the bedroom! I stepped into the wardrobe and shut the door. 

 

_Very brave, Fred. Clearly you’re very combat capable._

 

I scowled: I wasn’t afraid this was tactics!

 

“Do you mind?” Wesley said firmly.

“No, not really. I haven’t searched the place without checking the bedroom.”

“Fred’s not here.”

“Then you won’t mind me checking.”

“Yet she’s not here, and somehow I do.”

“Look, you know I can’t leave without checking. And if she’s not here, I need to be out there looking for her. So are you going to get out of my way?”

A brief pause. Probably giving me time to hide. “Fine.”

 

I heard the bedroom door creak open. Heavy footfalls outside. I saw Charles and Wesley through the crack in the wardrobe doors. Charles glanced around the room, then checked under the bed, and in the bathroom. He looked satisfied.

 

“I did tell you.”

“Fine, you were right. Big whoop.”

“Are we done?” Wesley gestured towards the door.

Charles hesitated. He looked conflicted. “Not going to help us?” He asked.

“Why would I do that?”

“You’ve helped before.”

“Special circumstances. This isn’t. This is your business, I’m not getting involved.”

“Circumstances could be special.” Charles folded his arms. “First time you helped us, Fred was dying. For all we know, she’s in trouble now.” Dying? When had I been _dying_?

 

“Could be. If they turn out to be, give me a call. I might help.”

“Not even one locator spell?” Charles clenched his fists. “Not one bit of help?”

“I think I made myself perfectly clear.” Wesley folded his own arms calmly.

“Selfish bastard.” Charles scowled at Wesley and stormed off towards the door.

“Apocalypse or mortal peril.” Wesley called after him, moving out of my sight. “If you run up against one of them, feel free to come get some much-needed help.”

 

I heard the apartment door slam and breathed a sigh of relief, emerging from the wardrobe. “He would understand, you know.” Wesley said gruffly, not turning to face me. “There’s still time.”

“I don’t want him to know. Not ever.” Wesley nodded slowly, face blank. “When was I dying?”

He blinked. “Pardon?”

“Charles said you helped them when I was dying…” I folded my arms and hovered just inside the bedroom. “What did he mean?”

“Oh. When the Slukk demons infested the Hyperion, Gunn came here with a question.” Wesley rubbed the back of his neck. “I answered him.”

 

I winced. I remembered that horrible experience all too well. A gross slug crawling inside me, sucking me dry, Charles vanishing… and coming back, knowing exactly how to help me. “You saved my life.” I said quietly.

“Yes… I suppose I did.” Wesley replied, voice soft. 

“You never said.” I pointed out. More to the point, Charles had never said. But I guess I’d never asked… but if Wesley had helped when we needed him, why did Charles still resent him so much?

“I didn’t do it for praise.” Wesley glanced at his feet. “And you would have done the same for me. I just answered a question.”

“So I guess you wouldn’t accept a ‘thank you’, then?” I smiled shyly. So even right after we’d told him to get out of our lives forever… he’d kept looking out for us. For me. 

“You’d be right.” Wesley smiled in response, then looked away. “Right. Back to business?”

 

“Yes. Right. Sure.” I nodded. “You were about to suggest something?”

Wesley grimaced. “I was about to suggest it might be a good idea for you to stay here for now. To avoid any awkward run-ins with Angel’s team, or Wolfram and Hart personnel, or whoever did this to you.”

“That’s probably best.” I nodded, frustrated. I wanted to be doing something. Not just sitting here like a lemon.

“I have some books on mind-affecting compulsions… essence-transfer spells… and possessions here.” Wesley pulled out a surprising number of books from his shelves, setting them down in a pile. “You should get reading. See if you recognise anything that matches your symptoms, or that trips your memory.”

“Good call.” I nodded, instantly feeling better. “What are you going to do?”

 

“I think I’ll try to retrace your steps from the missing period. Work out what happened to you, where it took place and who was involved.” Wesley grabbed his jacket off his desk chair and began scribbling something on a piece of paper. “Roughly when did you leave the Hyperion?”

“About 2pm.” I supplied. 

Wesley nodded, walking over to a drawer and removing a scrapbook. I moved over to him. He flipped through it for a few seconds, then withdrew a photo of the whole group. All of us laughing together, I think after Cordy’s birthday? A long time ago. 

 

“Those were the days.” I said softly.

“Yes. They were.” Wesley agreed, slamming the binder shut. “Just to show people. See if they recognise you.” I nodded.

 

Wesley stopped by the door. “I’ve left my mobile phone number on that bit of paper by the phone. Help yourself to anything in the fridge. If you find anything out or remember anything new, call me.”

“Same goes for you.” 

“Of course. Try not to let Lilah drive you mad in the meanwhile.” Wesley went to open the door.

 

“Wait!” I took a few steps toward him. Wesley turned to face me. I swallowed: how did I say this? 

 

“Thank you.” I left a brief pause so it could sink in. “For everything. For listening. For helping me. For being… nice-ish to Charles. For saving my life a while back. For recognising me and… for not treating me like her.” I flushed. I hadn’t really done a good job of articulating just how grateful I was. Because I was so, so grateful. I had no idea how many favours I would owe him after this, but it was lots.

 

_You know Fred, if you’re grateful, there is always the traditional way damsels express gratitude to fall back on…_ Lilah smirked mentally. I felt myself go red and tried to ignore her again. Having her stuck in the back of my head was hell. There was nothing worse.

 

Wesley smiled slightly. “You’re welcome, Fred. We’ll fix this. Trust me. And, for what it’s worth… you’re nothing like Lilah. She’d never say ‘thank you’.” I smiled at him. Wesley nodded once and swept out, shutting the door behind him.

 

I let out a deep breath. I felt dizzy. Out-of-breath. But hopeful. Wesley would help me. He’d help me fix this. On the subject of fixing this, I should grab those books. I took a step towards the pile but my dizziness got ten times worse and I stumbled, collapsing onto the sofa. I tried to stand up, but my legs and arms had started shaking uncontrollably.

 

_Fred. Fred, what the hell are you doing? Fred, this doesn’t feel right!_

 

It really didn’t. I felt dizzy. My vision was blurring, my head was spinning like a carousel and I had a splitting headache. I let out a yelp of pain, pressing both hands to my temples and shutting my eyes. Fresh pain arched through my body and I whimpered. I was in agony, but I could only whimper. I wanted to scream, why couldn’t I scream?

 

Then it got worse. I felt like I’d been put in a vice. Like I was slowly being crushed, crumpled up like a can. “Wesley!” I tried to yell but it came out as barely a whisper. A horrible icy feeling was pouring through me, like it was spinning out of my heart and flowing through my veins. Everything felt cold. But the cold was nothing, _nothing_ next to the pain burning in every muscle, every bone, that horrible oppressive force that felt like it was about to snap my spine.

 

_If I die…_ Lilah gasped. _I want you to know… you’re a bitch._

 

I barely heard her. A final howl of pain tore out of me-

 

And the pain was gone. I felt myself collapse into a weak shivering ball on the sofa, eyes still closed. I could hear myself whimpering slightly, curled up in a ball. I tried to open my eyes, but couldn’t muster the strength: they stayed resolutely closed. Same went for my limbs: whatever had just happened, it had drained me completely. I tried to call out to Lilah: she sounded like she’d been in just as much pain as I’d been, and I couldn’t hear her voice anymore… hopefully she was alright. I stayed curled up on the sofa a few seconds longer.

 

“Fred, are you gonna get up or what?” My mouth moved of its own accord and my body stiffened. I hadn’t tried to speak. And the voice wasn’t Lilah’s.

 

It was mine.

 

I tried to open my eyes, to move, to speak. Nothing worked. “Fred?” I felt myself slowly shift until I was sitting upright on the sofa, before one eye opened tentatively. I wasn’t doing this, wasn’t trying to move. What was happening? Still in Wesley’s apartment. My head turned slowly left, then right and I looked, shocked, at the hair hanging down around my face. _My_ hair.

 

My body slowly rose to its feet, holding up both arms as if for inspection. “No way.” My voice breathed. “This is…” I could only watch, stunned, as my body picked its unsteady way across the apartment, marching into Wesley’s bedroom and yanking open the door to Wesley’s wardrobe. 

 

My face stared back at me from the mirror attached to the inside. Brown eyes shocked. Lips slightly parted. Lilah’s clothes hanging awkwardly off my body - _my_ body, I was me again - and my face blinking in surprise. One arm rose up, pressed a hand against the glass and was swiftly withdrawn.

 

My head tilted to one side and a sly smile made its way across my face, uninvited. And only then did I fully realise what had happened.

 

“Well now,” Lilah’s smile widened. “Ain’t this just fascinatin’.”


	3. Four Made Fools Of

_Lilah?_ I projected the thought outwards as intensely as I could.

 

The Fred in the mirror smiled wider and giggled. “Forget about that evil witch. My name’s Fred! How do ya do?”

 

_Lilah._ I frowned. _Stop it._

 

“Stop what?” Lilah’s eyes widened into an expression of utmost innocence, putting one hand over her heart. “I ain’t trying to hurt nobody’s feelings or nothin’.”

 

I let out a low growl in response (a growl that didn’t change the face in the mirror’s expression one bit!) and tried to stop my face from smiling. Nothing. I focused as hard as I could on lifting my arms, shifting my legs, on blinking. Nothing worked. Nothing.

 

I was powerless.

 

Lilah’s smile became downright wicked. “Sorry. Looks like you’re just the passenger now. Oops.”

 

_What did you do?_ I demanded. _How did you do this?_

 

“I didn’t.” Lilah closed her eyes and I was thrust into darkness, then I felt her shrug her shoulders. Just like she’d said before: I could feel everything she felt… but I was powerless to affect anything. Oh dear. “But I sure ain’t complaining.” Lilah opened her eyes and tilted her head slightly. 

 

_Alright._ I tried to keep calm. _Okay. We need to call Wesley. He might be able to figure out why this happened and-_

 

“Put you back in charge?” Lilah made a sad face and shook her head sombrely. “Sorry. Not in love with that plan.”

 

_No!_ I insisted, trying to cover up that that was exactly what I’d been hoping for. _But the fact that this has happened at all must be crucial information! It might help him figure out how to put us back in our own bodies!_

 

“Hmm.” Lilah smirked. I didn’t like the expression on my face. “Maybe later. Who says I have to go back right away…” 

 

Lilah’s gaze - and as a result mine - went to my feet in the mirror then slowly trailed up over my body. 

 

_Lilah…_ I said warningly.

 

“Shush.” Lilah put one finger over my lips, stroking them tenderly. “I mean… obviously this is a bit of a downgrade, but it’s a hell of a lot better than being a powerless voice in the back of your head. And there’s no harm in… trying out another body. Seeing what it’s like.”

 

_Don’t you dare!_ I yelled, mind suddenly filling with all of the awful things Lilah could do. _Or_ _I swear…_

 

“Or what, that you’ll complain extra loud at me?” LIlah had given up any pretence at being me, expression still mildly curious but voice utterly callous. If I was capable of shivering, I would have done so at the sound of my own voice so wrong and perverted. “You don’t have the power anymore. I do. The only question is… what do I want to do with it?”

 

Lilah twirled slowly in front of the mirror, eyes roaming. I felt mildly nauseous. The feeling of nausea ramped up when Lilah undid the skirt and tossed it away behind her, holding up one of my legs for inspection.

 

_Stop!_ I pleaded.

 

“Hmm, not bad Fred. Not bad.” Lilah stroked her leg experimentally and I could feel her warm hand sliding down over the skin, shuddering internally… I suppose everything I did was internal now. Oh, God. I took it back. There was something worse than being trapped in Lilah’s body with her in the back of my head. This was worse. This was a thousand times worse.

 

Lilah began casually unbuttoning her shirt and I screamed insults and threatened her but she didn’t even bother to respond, turning away from the mirror to carefully deposit the shirt on the bed, alongside both pieces of underwear.

 

Lilah turned around to face the mirror and fixed a seductive smile on my face, slowly striding back up to the mirror. She twirled a few times, examining every inch of me critically. I seethed powerlessly, raging silently against her. 

 

_You’re a monster._ I declared.

 

“Duh. Evil, remember?” Lilah rubbed one shoulder thoughtfully. “I have to admit, the lack of back pain is a nice touch. Doesn’t make up for the asset loss by any means, but it’s certainly comfy.” 

 

Lilah smiled wickedly. “Maybe when this is all over I can use my body for work and social events, then keep yours to slip into when I want to relax alone. Like a comfy pair of sweatpants.”

 

I growled and Lilah giggled. “And speaking of relaxing alone…” Lilah began walking purposefully into the bathroom, making straight for the shower.

 

_Lilah, I swear to God, if you dare…_ I didn’t even know how to verbalise what I was feeling. I didn’t think I’d ever felt this angry before. Lilah stopped just outside the bathroom and laughed, shaking her head and turning away. I sagged in relief. “Just messing with you, Fred. You need to learn to relax…” Lilah returned to Wesley’s wardrobe and started examining his clothes. “And enjoy the show.” That sounded ominous. I prayed that Wesley had forgotten something from here, that he’d come back (after Lilah had put on some clothes, obviously, it wasn’t like I wanted Wesley to find us like this, obviously), that he’d figure out what happened, that _anything_ would happen to save me from this.

 

She eventually settled on a loose plain white shirt and kept the skirt from earlier. I seethed silently as Lilah performed various poses in front of the mirror. Then she stepped slightly closer to the surface of the glass and began practicing facial expressions. 

 

Smile. Nervous smile. Worried expression. Relieved. Scared. Sad. Disappointed. Anxious. I suppose she could be doing worse. _What are you doing?_ I asked, more out of boredom than anything else.

 

“Practicing.” Lilah smiled widely. Please, that was all wrong. She looked nothing like me! Well, I mean, she looked _exactly_ like me but the expression was completely off! A little. Kinda. She clapped excitedly. “Don’t want anybody to worry that something is up with poor little Fred.” Great, more mockery. Wait.

 

_You can’t go out there, Lilah._ I reminded her nervously. _It’s not safe. With Angel and-_

 

“Angel?” Lilah smiled innocently and sighed wistfully. “Angel wouldn’t ever hurt me, he’s my _hero_!”

 

_There’s… there’s other reasons!_ I stammered as Lilah grabbed the bra and shirt she’d discarded on the bed, moving back into the main room of the apartment. _Whoever did this to us is still out there! And Wolfram and Hart could be looking for us!_

 

“Let them.” Lilah smirked. “They don’t have any idea what happened because I don’t, and if they grab us it’ll be easy peasy for me to identify myself to them and have them start working on a way to keep you out of the driver’s seat more reliably.”

 

_You might have more trouble identifying yourself than you might think._

 

“Ah, dang.” Lilah pouted. “That’s right! Darn evil magic means I can only say, ‘I’m Winifred Burkle.’ My evil scheme foiled again! But wait a second: I know passwords and secrets that I can use to identify myself easily. Never mind: evil plan back on track!” Lilah clapped mockingly and I scowled. Lilah walked over to the counter and - without letting me get a look at it - tore up the telephone number and stuffed the little pieces into one pocket. She grabbed the wallet and phone out of her jacket, then slung it over one shoulder with the other clothes and slowly surveyed the apartment. 

 

“Now, is there anything I’m forgettin’…” Lilah mused, adopting a thoughtful expression. She snapped her fingers. “Now I remember: my briefcase and a can-do attitude!” I glowered silently as she snapped open the briefcase, put the excess clothing in it, closed it and walked out.

 

_You’re getting rid of the evidence that anything has happened._ I accused. _Making sure Wesley doesn’t catch on to what you’re doing._

 

“Get this girl a scholarship.” Lilah said brightly, practically skipping down the corridor. 

 

_I don’t walk like that!_ I complained. _And when Wesley catches up to you, I’ll… I’ll tell him everything. It’d be better for you if you stuck to the plan. Then he’ll help you too._

 

Lilah snorted. “Please. You have way too much faith in him.”

 

_He’ll help me._

 

“An hour ago, I’d have agreed with you. Now…” Lilah emerged out onto the street, slowing to a halt to admire her reflection in a car’s wing mirror. “Well. He can finally have what he most desires, and it hinges on _not_ bringing you back. Think on that, Fred.”

 

_Don’t be ridiculous._ I scoffed. _Wesley wouldn’t leave me stuck like this. And what do you mean, ‘what he most desires?’_

 

Lilah just chuckled. At least she’d stopped skipping, but she was certainly walking with a bounce in her step. That irritated me. Four blocks away from Wesley’s place, she dumped the briefcase into a trashcan and kept walking. “Didn’t really go with the look.” Lilah said under her breath. “Don’t ya think?”

 

_So, what are you gonna do, Lilah?_ I sighed. _What terribly funny, evil things are you going to enjoy doing in my body?_

 

“Easy. We’re going shopping! Girls’ day out!” Lilah smiled widely. And although shopping hadn’t featured anywhere on my list of ‘horrible things Lilah can put me through’ I suddenly felt very, very apprehensive. 

 

\+ + + + + + +

 

“Hmm.” Lilah mused quietly, holding the top up thoughtfully. “What do you think, Fred?”

 

I sighed internally. I’d decided to cooperate with Lilah’s weird desire to shop, in hopes that I could either delay her long enough that I got to take control again, or at least stop her doing anything that would cause me long-term grief. Building goodwill. I didn’t much like it.

 

_I dunno._ I eyed the top critically. _It’s flowery and nice and all, but not sure it goes with the skirt at all._

 

“You’re right.” Lilah nodded, but she didn’t put down. “Guess I’ll need to get a new skirt too.” Lilah kept hold of the top and turned away from the freestanding mirror, wandering towards the skirts section. She paused in-between two racks of similar skirts, one blue and one red. She hesitated over sizes.

 

I dutifully provided my size.

 

“Thanks.” Lilah smiled, grabbing the red skirt. She hummed a tune under her breath as she made her way to the changing rooms. _When are you gonna be done acting over-the-top chirpy just to get on my nerves?_

 

“Sometime after never.” Lilah smoothed down the new skirt. “So, what’s the verdict?”

 

Lilah looked herself up and down. I felt a severe pang of envy: why did she get to look like me and I had to look like _her_? Much as I hated that Lilah had picked out the clothes, I kinda liked the outfit and I wouldn’t have been averse to wearing it. A cute white top with some flower designs - a little over the top for my taste recently, but last year ago I would have been all over it - and a flattering - if kinda short - red skirt. 

 

_It’s nice._ I said unenthusiastically.

 

“Let’s go buy them and get changed then.” Lilah smiled widely, beginning to swap back into our original outfit. 

 

I frowned. _You’re changing right now?_

 

“Hey,” Lilah shrugged. “I’m just not sure Wesley’s shirt and my skirt are the best combination. We can do better.” I guess. Lilah queued up to buy the clothes, swapped into them in a changing room (ditching Wesley’s shirt and her jacket: I made a mental note to reimburse Wesley when he caught up to me). A few shops later, we’d ditched Lilah’s work shoes and socks for a pair of sandals, and Lilah had picked up some hair bands - currently languishing in her purse - along with a silvery bracelet which she’d put on one wrist and a little gold heart pendant. 

 

“Next stop, coffee.” Lilah whispered, just loud enough that I could hear her, but nobody else in the mall could. I wondered if Lilah’s food preferences would be different since she wasn’t using her own taste buds? Be interesting to find out. Guess I should just wait and see. 

 

Lilah was still very much enjoying getting under my skin by affecting an exaggerated bubbly, happy demeanour. I wonder whether it was as hard for her to be nice and polite to everyone as it was for me to be mean to people when I was pretending to be her? Lilah bopped her head from side to side in time with the music in the coffee shop as she queued up to order, scanning the menu board. “What can I get for you?” The young man behind the counter asked, smiling brightly.

 

“Good afternoon!” Lilah smiled, leaning forward slightly to rest her chin on both hands, elbows propped up on the counter. “I’d like… a medium hot chocolate please. Ooh, with marshmallows and sprinkles, if that’s alright?” 

“Sounds good. That’s two dollars.” 

“Thanks!” Lilah paid and sauntered a few steps down to the area by the counter where we waited for our drinks, complete with tip jar.

 

_You should tip._ I told Lilah, wondering if she would to keep up her persona. At least if she did, that was three people behind the counter slightly better off. Lilah was humming softly to herself, tapping one foot on the floor, when the attendant who’d previously been operating the cash register came into view at this end of the counter - Lilah glanced back to see someone else operating the till and the third person working the machine - and caught Lilah’s eye. Lilah kept smiling.

 

“You’re new here, right?” He questioned.

“That’s right.” Lilah glanced him up and down: he was kinda cute, I suppose. Oh God, was Lilah going to flirt? My question was answered when Lilah stepped up the counter and tilted her head quizzically. “So are most people though, right? You don’t have a couple thousand regular customers marching in like clockwork?”

“That’s true.” He nodded, not looking away. “Most people aren’t as pretty as you though.”

“Well,” Lilah raised one eyebrow. “Are most people prettier than me or less pretty than me?”

“Definitely less.” He blushed. Aww. That was sweet. Lilah still had to cut this out.

 

_Lilah, stop it._ I hissed. _You using my body to flirt is… wrong. And a violation. And just plain weird._

 

“You’re sweet.” Lilah looked down to studiously examine her sandals, letting her smile widen slightly. _Seriously, stop it. This isn’t funny._

“Actually I'm Kyle.” Lilah looked up to see Kyle tapping his name badge.

“I can see that.”

“Problem is,” He frowned. “I can’t see your name written anywhere, and I’d quite like to know it…”

“Winifred.” Lilah paused for a second, biting her lip as if hesitating. “My friends call me Fred.”

“May _I_ call you Fred?” Kyle asked tentatively.

“You may.” Lilah smiled widely. Yuck. _Lilah, cut it out._ Kyle beamed. “Are you saying you want to be friends?”

“Not… not exactly, Fred.” Hearing him call Lilah that made me want to shudder. And possibly throw up.

“Well, what are you trying to say?” Lilah mimicked her leaning position from earlier, causing Kyle to copy her on the other side of the counter.

“It’s a bit crazy.” Kyle admitted. “You’ll think I’m mad.”

“Try me.”

 

“I’m trying to say…” Kyle swallowed. “Do you think you’ll still be here at three?”

“Now that is a little crazy.” Lilah mused. “Why would I stay in a coffee shop for two hours, even one as nice as this?”

“Maybe because… I get off work at three?” Kyle said hesitantly, smiling shyly. Oh, this poor guy. _Lilah, stop it, this is cruel._ Now I felt guilty, like I was leading him on, which was ridiculous because I wasn’t even in control of my body! _Lilah, this isn’t fair on him!_

 

“And you’d like me to feature?” Lilah smiled shyly, examining the counter studiously. God, wasn’t it obvious that she was just acting at being shy? Surely that was obvious.

“Very very much.” Kyle stammered. Apparently not.

“Hmm.” Lilah frowned, looking at Kyle sadly. “I’m afraid I do have to go once I have my drink… sorry.” Kyle looked unhappy.

 

“But I might,” Lilah smiled shyly. “And this is only a _might_ , mind you, be able to get here for three-thirty.”

Kyle brightened noticeably. “Three-thirty then?”

“It’s only a maybe.” Lilah cautioned. “Are you sure you’re willing to wait half an hour for a maybe?”

“Definitely.” Kyle smiled nervously.

“That’s very sweet.” Lilah slid one hand across the table to pat his, then whispered conspiratorially. “And by the way it’s now less of a maybe, leaning towards a probably.”

“I like the sound of probably.” Kyle blushed.

“I like the sound of it too.” A hot chocolate was deposited on the counter. “That’s kinda my cue.”

 

LIlah fished around in her purse, producing a dollar bill and a pen. She signed my first name on one side of the bill followed by three x’s and a smiley face. She put the bill - writing down - on the counter and asked sweetly. “Could you be a doll and take that from me: as a tip?”

Kyle picked up the bill, looked at the other side and grinned like he’d won the lottery. This was awful. _Lilah, how could you?_

 

Lilah blew him a kiss and walked back to the exit, then she spun on her heel, waved at him excitedly and speed walked off. _Happy now?_ I asked, resigned.

 

“Oh c’mon.” Lilah muttered under her breath, sipping the hot chocolate. I wasn’t in a position to appreciate how yummy it was. And there was certainly no way I was ever going to be able to go back to that coffee shop again so… “You can’t tell me that wasn’t fun.”

 

_It was horrible._

 

“Such a spoilsport. We had him totally hooked!” Lilah glanced down at herself appreciatively. “I had no idea this shy, innocent thing you put on worked so well. It made playing hard to get _so_ easy. And so effective.”

 

_I don’t put anything on._ I grumbled.

 

“Sure. But look: we had fun, he had fun… and we both know he’s gonna be over the moon for the next couple hours. Did you see his face? I made his day!” 

 

_Until you don’t show up at three-thirty and he’ll probably end up disappointed._ I pointed out.

 

“Try ‘devastated’.” Lilah suggested, then smiled wickedly. “Besides, who’s to say I don’t show up at three-thirty?” _Lilah, I swear…_

 

“Yeah, yeah keep calm.” Lilah rolled her eyes. The sensation was slightly nausea-inducing for me. “I’m just messing with you.”

 

_I hate you._

 

“And we’re stuck with each other, so watch your language.” Lilah scolded. “No sense in being rude now, is there?” Next stop on Lilah’s list was a bookstore. She browsed for a little while - focusing exclusively on romance and sci-fi novels - and I took the opportunity to enjoy reading the stories. One pleasure I could still experience… even if Lilah was an annoyingly slow reader. Having picked out four books, Lilah made her way to the counter and queued patiently. At least there wasn’t any music in here for her to bob along too. I desperately tried - and failed - to tune out Lilah’s flirting session with the person behind the counter (thankfully she didn’t arrange a meeting this time), letting my disapproval radiate into Lilah as she left the store, bag of books slung over one shoulder.

 

“You have it stupidly easy.” Lilah muttered, still grinning. “Men really do go look for the shy, innocent, sweet thing… it’s not just the righteous hero types.” 

 

_The revealing outfit probably doesn’t hurt._ I said acidly. 

 

“Ah, quit moping Fred.” Lilah hefted the bag. “Look on the bright side!” I fantasised about Wesley catching up to us, putting me back in control of my own body and then leaving me alone in a room with Lilah. And maybe letting me borrow one of Angel’s flails. _You know, that does make me feel better._

 

“That’s the spirit.” Lilah murmured, then fell silent, queuing up at a bakery. One bag of mixed confectionary goods later, we were out of the mall and back on the streets, Lilah now clutching a paper bag full of goodies. I could smell the delicious pastries and felt my stomach rumble. “Quite a sweet tooth, huh, Fred?” Lilah mused, inhaling deeply out of the bag, but declining to actually eat anything.

 

_What next?_ I asked pointedly. _Going to go sit on a park bench somewhere eating pastries, readingyour romance novel, doing your best to look shy and sweet, and letting guys come up to hit on you?_

 

“Hey.” Lilah shrugged. “I’m just staying in character. Just practice is all. Which I’m about to put to use… Although your idea is certainly tempting.” It took me a few more seconds to realise what she meant, and where she was walking.

 

She was crazy _,_ I concluded. Because what she was trying was never going to work. They were going to see right through her, then they were gonna figure out a way to help me. Sure, Lilah walking into the Hyperion dressed as me was gonna be awkward to explain and probably end up exposing me to Angel - which didn’t sound quite so bad anymore if I couldn’t avoid it - but at least I wouldn’t be stuck in the back of Lilah’s head, forced to watch her using my body and unable to do anything about it.

 

“Any last minute advice for me?” Lilah whispered as she entered sight of the Hyperion. 

 

_Turn yourself in._ I suggested. _It’ll be better for you in the long run._

 

Lilah didn’t bother to respond. She paused outside the entrance to the front hotel courtyard, fixed a slightly sheepish smile on her face and confidently walked up to the doors, pushing them open. She glanced around the lobby as she entered and I smiled internally: Lorne and Angel were here! Perfect. They’d see through Lilah’s act in no time, even without Lorne’s empathic abilities. Then they could truss her up and this waking nightmare would be one step closer to being over.

 

“Hey, guys!” Lilah waved, maintaining her sheepish smile. “How y’all doing?”

Angel and Lorne looked up from their seats at the counter, where they were poring over maps, faces breaking into simultaneous grins. “Fred!” They cried out, charging at me. Lilah dropped the bag of pastries and opened her arms wide, letting Lorne tackle her into a hug.

 

“Aww. I missed you guys too.” Lilah cooed, hugging Lorne tightly.

“Fredikins,” Lorne squeezed. “We’ve been so worried about you! Where have you been?”

“Oh, Lord.” Lilah gasped. “Oh no! I didn’t mean to panic anybody! I… there was just… after the thing with the rats I… I just needed to get away for a bit! I just went out and got some coffee and read some books and kinda fell asleep in one of those twenty-four hour cafe places with my nose buried in this really great book and I’m so sorry if I gave y’all a fright!”

 

“Don’t worry about it, Fred.” Angel pulled Lilah into a hug as Lorne stepped away. “We probably overreacted. We’re just glad you’re alright.”

“Oh, I’m better than alright.” Lilah held up the bakery bag once Angel had extricated himself. “I brought pastries!” 

“Fredikins, you are a hero.” Lorne grinned, accepting the proffered bag and removing some choice treats.

 

_Seriously, guys?_ My voice was weary. _Seriously?_ They couldn’t tell the difference between me and Lilah, for crying out loud? She was being ridiculous! This was a completely caricatured version of me, and they were falling for it!

 

“So, what did I miss?” Lilah started munching on a chocolate treat as she leaned against the counter, smiling broadly. “Anything important?”

“Nothing much Fredikins.” Lorne said between bites. I really wished he’d stop using the nickname, I just knew Lilah was going to rip me to shreds over it later. “The weird supernatural events we were tracking yesterday all sorta fizzled out. No big finish.”

“Well, that’s just bad showmanship.” Lilah grinned. Lorne laughed.

 

“That’s part of why we were worried about you.” Angel confessed. “I got some information out of Lilah about the pattern of events that led us to where we thought we’d be facing a showdown: then nothing happened and when we got back here, you were gone. We were worried Lilah had used it all as a distraction to snatch you.”

“Evil witch.” Lilah pouted. I rolled my eyes internally. “You can’t trust anything she says! That was silly of you.”

“Yeah.” Angel nodded sheepishly.

 

“Especially after what she did to Lorne.” Lilah leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to Lorne’s forehead, next to the bandage where Wolfram and Hart had drilled into his head _on her orders_ to remove the information about Cordy’s future. “I swear, what I wouldn’t give to get my hands on her and give her a good talking to!”

“Amen, Fredikins. Amen.” Lorne nodded, totally oblivious to the laughter Lilah was probably struggling to contain. “After everything she’s done… the thought of her doing anything to you… it makes me sick.” While that was kind of sweet, I didn’t need protecting from Lilah! I could handle myself!

 

Current circumstances excepted.

 

“Don’t worry Lorne. I can handle myself.” Lilah patted his shoulder. “And I’ll make sure she never gets near you again, God as my witness.”

“I know.” Lorne smiled. “I know.”

“Well, guess we don’t need these anymore.” Angel started gathering up the maps off the counter. “We can call off the search for you.”

Lorne opened his mouth, hesitated, then spoke. “You might want to call Gunn too. He’s out there searching, and he’s pretty worried.”

“Oh, darn!” Lilah gasped, putting both hands over her mouth and adopting a panicky expression. “I forgot that I lost my phone! I just got distracted by a book I was reading and left it somewhere, oh, poor thing, he must be worried sick! Lorne, can I borrow your phone?”

“Sure thing.” For the first time, the tiniest trace of suspicion flitted across Lorne’s face as he handed over the phone. Come on Lorne! You know me! Plus you’re an empath demon who can read auras, surely you can see something’s wrong with this picture!!

“I’m just gonna head upstairs, drop these off in my room.” Lilah picked up the bag of books. “I’ll be right back!” Lilah waved, spun around and started walking upstairs. 

 

Once Lilah was a few flights of stairs away from Angel she whispered. “Told you I’d put all my practice to good use. They didn’t suspect a thing.”

 

_Lorne suspects!_ I pointed out. I knew it was unwise but I had to defend myself a little bit or I was gonna go crazy. _He’ll have you figured out in no time. He can read auras._

 

“Yeah, well…” Lilah murmured. “As long as I don’t sing a little song and summon all the woodland creatures to help me with my chores, I think I’ll be just fine.” I scowled: I wasn’t Snow White. And more importantly, when was it going to be my turn to be in charge again??

 

I sullenly refused to help Lilah find my room, so it was after a lot of trial and error that she eventually stumbled on it. Lilah calmly put the books down on the bed and toyed with the flip phone thoughtfully.

 

_Don’t you dare call Charles._ I growled at her. _That is a red line. I swear-_

 

“Relax, I have no interest in your boy toy.” Lilah tossed the phone onto the bed and stretched. “Then again, lately neither do you.”

 

_What’s that supposed to mean?_ I demanded, flashing back to my argument with Charles yesterday, when everything had still been normal-ish.

 

“Wolfram and Hart have spies Fred. Little birdies. And they tell me the most interesting stories.” Lilah paused, smiling widely. “I know what you did to your old professor. You murdered him.”

 

I was stunned into silence.

 

“Or, more accurately, my theory is that you _tried_ to do it…” Lilah paused. “And Charles beat you to it, for noble reasons all of his own. Sound accurate?” I declined to respond. I was not going to talk to Lilah about this.

 

“Well, doesn’t matter anyway. I’ve had my fun.” Lilah rolled her shoulders. “Time to go.”

 

_Go where?_ I questioned.

 

“To the experts. Wolfram and Hart.” Lilah smiled. “I’m gonna have them take a look at us, and figure out what kind of magic they can work.”

 

_No! Don’t do that!_ I pleaded. _Let’s… let’s go back to Wesley! You know he’ll fix this!_

 

“No,” Lilah shook her head. “I reckon he’ll get the best outcome for you. Which is not necessarily the best outcome for _me._ Which is the outcome I want.” I watched helplessly as Lilah descended the stairs. I only had one plan: wait until I saw Lorne, then yell as loudly as I could at Lilah and hope Lorne picked up on it. But when we got to the lobby, Lorne was nowhere in sight. This would have to be good enough. I readied myself… but Lilah wasn't leaving the hotel. Instead, she went straight for the office. I decided to wait.

 

Angel was sitting behind his desk, reading through something. Lilah plopped herself down in one of the other chairs and started glancing over the documents on the desk: probably looking for something that would be useful to her back at Wolfram and Hart. She was reading through a summary of our response to yesterday’s events when I saw Angel make a call out of the corner of my eye.

 

“Hi. Yeah, sorry for calling but I thought you’d want to know. Gunn mentioned he stopped by earlier to apprise you of the situation.” Lilah’s whole body stiffened and I could have jumped for joy: if I wasn’t very much mistaken, Angel was on the phone to Wesley. Which meant that any second now…

 

Lilah stood up casually and left the office, but I could feel her pulse quickening. I heard Angel still talking inside and prayed he got to the point. “Yeah, Fred’s back. Just walked in. Yeah, she’s fine. No, she’s not acting weird. She was just getting some rest. Reading. Wesley, what are you talking about? You’re sure? Fine.” I heard Angel put down the receiver just as Lilah got to the lobby doors.

 

“Fred!” Angel called out. Lilah kept walking. “Fred!” I heard Angel approaching from behind and Lilah jumped, turning around and smiling sheepishly like she hadn’t heard him the first time. 

“What’s up, boss?” Lilah smiled. 

“Wesley just called.” Angel shook his head. How much had Wesley said? “He was concerned. Said he was worried there might be after-effects from the mystical events yesterday. He was vague.”

“Pfft.” Lilah waved one hand. “I’m fine, don’t worry.”

“Where are you going?” Angel leaned against a pillar casually, but I thought I saw a hint of suspicion in his eyes. Yes! Yes! Get her!

“Just out to find Charles.” Lilah explained. “Couldn’t get through to his phone, so I’m gonna head out and keep trying.”

“Sure.” Angel smiled. “Fred would you do me a favour?”

“Of course!” Lilah smiled.

 

“Stop lying to me.”

I felt the blood chill in Lilah’s veins and felt smug satisfaction settle over me. Now she was in for it. “Angel,” Lilah sounded hurt. “What do you-”

“You’re not fine, Fred.” Angel stepped forwards and put one hand on my shoulder comfortingly. “You haven’t been fine for a while, now. Have you?” No. No! Now was the time he decided to talk about feelings? Now?!

“I don’t know what you mean.” Lilah mumbled, glancing down. 

“Fred,” Angel almost whispered. “We all care about you. And I want you to know… you can talk to us. About any-”

 

Lilah burst into tears and pulled Angel into a tight hug, which he immediately returned. Oh, give me a break. “I’m sorry.” She blubbered, pressing her face into Angel’s shoulder. “It’s just… I’ve just… everything has been so…”

“Shush.” Angel patted my head gently and rocked me slowly. “It’s alright. It’s alright. You’re gonna be okay. We’re all here for you.” I groaned internally: Great. Now this would be what he remembered of me for the rest of my life. ‘Fred’ bursting into tears and needing to be looked after.

 

Just swell.

 

“Oh, Fredikins!” I heard Lorne rushing over to join the hug. “What is it?” Lilah sniffled and didn’t say anything.

 

“Oh, you don’t need to talk about it yet sweet pea.” Lorne crooned, rubbing Lilah’s back tenderly. “Let me just sit you down, we’ll get you some cocoa and-” Yes, good, keep her here, the longer she’s here, the more likely it is Wesley will show up and-

 

“No.” Lilah shook her head. “I… I want to find Charles. I have to talk to him. I need to. I need to, I need to get out there and-”

“Fred, he’ll be back soon.” Angel said reassuringly. “Then you can talk. I’ll go call him right now and-”

“It has to be me.” LIlah whispered. “In person. I have to go and find him. _Please,_ Angel.”

Angel hesitated. “Look, sugar plum,” Lorne suggested. “Why don’t you sing for me, alright? Then if I give you the emotional all-clear, you can run off to your honey-bunny okay? And if not, we’ll call him and get him here ASAP. Alright?”

Lilah sniffled. “Lorne, I-”

“C’mon, Fred. Do it for us. Please?” Angel used his puppy dog eyes. 

 

And now she was stuck. It was beautiful. Lilah couldn’t refuse to sing and run off without setting off alarm bells. She couldn’t stay here because if she did, Wesley would catch up to her. And if she sang, Lorne would suss her out in an instant.

 

_Good luck getting out of this._ I smirked. Finally, some luck!

 

Lilah nodded tentatively. “I’ll sing. Just a little.”

“That’s great, Fred. That’s great. Take your time.” Lorne nodded, giving her some space. Lilah nodded and made a show of wiping her eyes with her sleeve. She drew a deep breath.

 

“I’m walking on sunshine,” Lilah sang. It was over then. I breathed a sigh of relief. Caught at last. Lilah kept her eyes fixed on Lorne. “I’m walking on sunshine, I’m walking on sunshine, and don’t it feel good!” She paused, heart hammering.

Lorne blinked. “Oh, Fredikins.” He whispered and my stomach sank. What? “Gimme a hug!” Lilah obliged, enveloping Lorne in a tight embrace. WHAT?

 

“You really need to go find him, huh?” Lorne murmured. Lilah nodded silently. No. No. No! How had this happened? Why hadn’t Lorne’s reading worked? Why couldn’t he see that Lilah wasn’t me! What was happening? “It’s best that she go, Angel cakes. Trust the melody.”

“Alright.” Angel nodded. “Be careful, alright?”

Lilah beamed. “I always am!” Then she sprinted out of the hotel. And only when she was out onto the street did she let herself start giggling.

 

_How?_ I demanded, mind racing. _How did you do it? That’s not possible!_

 

Lilah’s giggles intensified and she slowed to a stop for a second. “Widen your horizons, Fredikins. New game, new rules. Time to learn to play.” Well, that was unhelpful. Lilah got her giggling under control, straightened up, smiled and walked forwards. Lilah turned the corner and bumped into somebody running the other way, sprawling onto the pavement.

 

“Sorry,” Lilah mumbled, glancing up. “That was really clum… Wesley!” Lilah beamed.

 

Wesley - also sprawled on the pavement - looked at Lilah and blinked. I prayed that he’d work it out. Lorne’s reading had failed me. Wesley was my last shot. If Lilah got past him she’d be at Wolfram and Hart and then… it didn’t bear thinking about.

 

“Isn’t this great?” Lilah grinned, stumbling upright as Wesley did the same. “I collapsed unconscious at your place, then woke up near the hotel back in my old body! How’d ya manage it?” Wesley’s brow furrowed over the course of the sentence, narrowed eyes sweeping Lilah up and down. Come on, come on…

 

“I don’t know how but I’m real grateful!” Lilah beamed, not letting him answer. _LILAH, DON”T YOU DARE!_ I screamed and I wasn’t sure why I was so angry, but if I had blood it would be boiling, because Lilah did _not_ get to screw up my relationship with Wesley! That was off limits!! Then Lilah smiled shyly and glanced at her feet. “Why don’t we grab a coffee and you can tell me how you managed it?” Lilah looked up at Wesley, putting a hopeful expression on her face.

 

“Fred,” Wesley said softly. “What song did you sing in Caritas? The first time you went.” My heart soared: Wesley had spotted it. Whether he’d noticed something off or was just playing it safe because he knew things were weird, he suspected Lilah wasn’t me! Thank goodness!

 

“Wesley, it’s me!” Lilah shook her head and laughed slightly. “Can’t you tell?”

Wesley’s expression hardened. “What was the song?”

Lilah rolled her eyes. “Fine, if it’ll make you happy…” Lilah stepped forwards onto tiptoes, putting her mouth next to Wesley’s ear. She opened her mouth as if to whisper-

 

Then swung my hand round to crunch into Wesley’s temple with all her force. Wesley staggered slightly and Lilah punched him hard in the stomach, then took off running. _Wesley!_ I gasped. _How dare you! He’s trying to help!_

 

“He’ll live.” Lilah hissed, sprinting desperately.

 

_You’ll never out-run him._ I pointed out.

 

“Shut up.” Lilah growled, eyes casting around. She darted into a nearby alley, and made it halfway down before I felt a familiar hand grab hold of her shoulder and spin her round, another hand catching her other arm. 

 

Wesley! He kept a tight grip on Lilah, though she didn’t even try to pull away. “Nice try, Lilah.” Wesley narrowed his eyes. 

Lilah laughed nervously. “No, silly, Lilah’s the one stuck in the back of my head! It’s me, Fred!”

“If you wanted to pretend convincingly, you shouldn’t have attacked me.” Wesley raised an eyebrow. “Or dressed up and acted like a caricature of Fred specifically to draw her ire and make her day as unbearable as possible.”

 

Finally! Someone got it! Thank you, Wesley!!!!

 

But Lilah evidently wasn’t one to give up. “Wesley, c’mon, this isn’t funny!” She adopted a hurt expression. 

He flinched but pressed on. “What have you done to Fred?”

“I’m trying to tell you!” Lilah whined. “I am-”

Wesley slowly walked forwards, pinning Lilah very gently against the wall at arms’ length. “I swear if you’ve hurt her-”

“This _does_ hurt.” Lilah complained, pouting. Then she smiled. “ _Harder, please.”_

 

Wesley jerked away, taking a few steps backwards and breathing heavily. “Lilah, stop now or-”

 

_Lilah, stop! Stop or_ -

 

“But isn’t this what you want?” Lilah made her bottom lip tremble, stepping towards Wesley, who backed up like she was toxic. “Me?”

 

Lilah gave him the puppy dog eyes look she’d worked so hard on perfecting and he turned away, hands clenched into fists. _LILAH STOP THIS INSTANT!_ I wanted to curl up into a ball and die of embarrassment. I also wanted to kill Lilah. Order didn’t matter.

 

“I _want_ you, Wesley.” Lilah whispered, keeping walking towards him. He backed up against the alley wall. “You’re my best friend and… and I want you to be so much _more._ Can’t you see that?” Lilah bit her lip, toying with the strands of her hair as if nervous with one hand, and tugging suggestively at the buttons of her shirt with the other. No. No, she couldn’t do this! She couldn’t!

 

“Let me show you.” Lilah whispered ever so softly, stepping forwards to press herself against him.Wesley, no! Don’t do this! It’s not me!

 

A shiver ran through both of us at the feel of Wesley pressed up against her. Lilah reached up to cup his face with one hand, sliding the other around his upper back. She stood up on tiptoes, leaning towards Wesley’s lips…

 

Wesley’s hands shot out to grab both Lilah’s shoulders, forcing her back away to arm’s length from him. Lilah pouted, looking at him like he’d just killed her puppy. I breathed an internal sigh of relief. Thank you, Wesley. (I ignored the small rebellious part of me that muttered it probably wouldn’t have been so bad if Lilah had kissed him, because that part of me was ridiculous and stupid).

 

“How dare you.” Wesley said quietly, eyes dark, voice simmering with rage. “How dare you mock her. Put her through this? She sees and feels all of this! How _dare you put her through this?_ ”

Lilah finally gave up the pretence. She narrowed her eyes and spoke mockingly. “Congratulations, Wesley! You just gave up your one chance to be with Fred! Stellar, really!” As if there was any way he’d kiss _Lilah_ while she was pretending to be me. That would just be gross. And wrong. Sickening.

 

“You aren’t Fred.” Wesley shook his head. “You sicken me.”

“Well,” Lilah slipped back into character. “The feeling’s mutual. I’m Winifred Burkle, and I don’t care about you one whit.” That was a lie! I cared! Wesley was my closest friend!

“Stop.” Wesley said quietly.

“I don’t care about you at all!” Lilah snorted. “I don’t care how you feel about me. I’m in love with your former best friend, who hates you! I abandoned you for months after you had your throat cut, and only come back to see when I need your help. I’m using you, you idiot! And I’ll never feel the same way about you that you do about me!” Lilah smirked. 

 

Oh, God. Wesley. _Lilah, you monster!_ I screamed at her. Wesley closed his eyes and drew a shuddering breath. “What have you done with Fred?”

 

Lilah rolled her eyes and opened her mouth. She paused. Then she screamed. I screamed with her. The pain was back. The world was spinning. Lilah started shaking and collapsed backwards, Wesley lunging forwards to catch us in his arms. Pain burned through me and I tried to howl in agony but couldn’t: Lilah screamed instead. It felt like an invisible force had seized my feet and head, slowly, inexorably ripping them apart. I felt like I was on a torture rack being stretched out, while having boiling oil poured into my veins. 

 

“Fred!” Wesley almost screamed, cradling me. “What do I do? What do you need me to do?” But I couldn’t respond and Lilah didn’t. Lilah shut her eyes and I felt like I was suddenly being yanked upwards, like I’d kicked off the bottom of a swimming pool and was surging towards the surface.

 

And the pain was gone.

 

I opened my eyes, coughing and spluttering. I felt wrong. Everything felt wrong. But Wesley was there, looking down at me, eyes wide. “Wesley!” I smiled a relieved smile. I stiffened. I could speak! I tried to move my arms: I could! “Wesley, I’m back!” I laughed happily, then froze.

 

Wrong voice.

 

I looked down at myself: I was _Lilah_ again. “Fred,” Wesley choked, looking impossibly relieved.

“The song was ‘Crazy’.” I smiled at him, feeling impossibly relieved, even if I was in the wrong body again. “And I do care about you.”

Wesley smiled weakly. “Thank you.”


	4. Five Fateful Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> United again, and with new insights into Fred's circumstances, it falls to Wes and Fred to pull off an audacious scheme to set things right.

I realised belatedly that I was standing at a roughly 45 degree angle, Wesley holding me upright with his incredibly muscular arms. Wesley, apparently realising the same thing, asked. “Can you stand?”

“I think so.” I stood upright, wincing in pain as the too-small sandals dug into my feet. Wesley took a step backwards and averted his gaze, offering me his jacket. “I’m not cold, Wesley.” I frowned.

 

Wesley coughed. “No, but your ah… attire…” I was suddenly very aware of how tight and uncomfortable my shirt was. I glanced down and winced, flushing red and putting on Wesley’s jacket. Lilah and I had quite dissimilar body shapes. Lilah’s modesty was sort of like my modesty right now, so I might as well protect it. 

“Thanks.” I murmured, brushing my hair behind my shoulders.

“Don’t worry about it.” Wesley shrugged. 

“So. I guess I have another funny story for you.” I smiled apologetically. 

“Yes.” Wesley frowned. “The plot has thickened.” I couldn’t suppress a small huff of laughter: Wesley’s dry humour could always lighten my spirits. Even when I was being possessed by / possessing Lilah Morgan, and at constant risk of being shoved into the back of her head while she took over my body.

 

“Can I maybe tell it back at your place?” I glanced around nervously. “Last thing I want is to run into a friend who wants to beat the crap out of me.”

Wesley nodded understandingly and started walking. “I’ll hail a cab.”

 

\+ + + + + + +

 

I slammed the door to Wesley’s apartment behind me, skin crawling. Even somewhat covered by the jacket - and even after a death glare from Wesley - the cab driver hadn’t been shy about leering at me. “I’m going to get changed into something less constricting.” I informed Wesley. “Can I use one of your shirts?” Wesley nodded, moving over to the bookcase and perusing the volumes. I pushed the door to his bedroom closed and unbuttoned the shirt, gasping with relief as I pulled it off and doing my best to avert my gaze.

 

_C’mon Fred._ Lilah sighed. _Are you really still doing this?_

 

“I still have principles.” I said snidely. Snide came out much better in Lilah’s voice than it would have in my own, annoyingly. I grabbed one of Wesley’s shirts and pulled it on, starting to button it up. “Can you hear me?” I called out.

“Yes. Is something the matter?”

“No, I just want to start telling the story.” I finished buttoning up the shirt and started hunting for a pair of sweatpants to replace the now ludicrously short skirt. “Almost immediately after you left the apartment, I suffered a severe bout of pain. After that, I found myself no longer in control of my own movements and unable to hear Lilah’s voice in the back of my head.” I found a pair of grey sweatpants and stepped out of the skirt.

 

“And soon discovered that yours and Lilah’s positions had been reversed?” Wesley called out.

“That’s right.” I nodded. _You do know he can’t see you nodding, right?_ “Instead of being in control of Lilah’s body, Lilah was control of mine. I assume the pain I felt was the transformation taking place.”

“And what happened next?”

 

“Once she’d established that I’d become the ‘passenger’ in the body, Lilah proceeded to adopt my mannerisms and go shopping.” I finished shimmying into the sweatpants and walked back to sit on the sofa in the living room, feeling marginally more comfortable. “She proceeded to swap outfits - including disposing of one of your shirts which I’ll pay you back for later - and amuse herself for some time flirting with strangers, performing a ridiculous impression of me and generally making me miserable.”

 

_That stings. I thought we were bonding!_

 

“Then she went to the hotel?” Wesley guessed, leafing through his newly selected book as he sat down opposite me.

“Right.” I scowled. “Where Lorne and Angel failed to realise that I wasn’t me.”

Wesley raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Really.” I glowered. “She was being ridiculous! All sweetness and over-the-top innocence and ridiculousness! And they didn’t see through it. Then, once she had her fun, she decided to search Angel’s office for information before going back to Wolfram and Hart…”

 

“At which point Angel called me.” Wesley nodded slowly. “Which came as quite a surprise, let me tell you.”

“Well, I’m lucky he did.” I shuddered. “Or I reckon I’d be in a Wolfram and Hart lab right now, being probed and experimented on. Lilah wanted to find a way to put herself in charge permanently. Referred to using my body like a pair of sweatpants.” I scowled.

Wesley’s gaze darkened and he leaned forwards to put a hand on my shoulder. “That will never happen.” He said softly. “If you’d ended up in there then I… we would have gotten you out.”

“I know.” I smiled gratefully, biting down on the urge to say ‘thank you’. “Then you tipped him off and Lilah tried to get the hell out. Which spooked Angel and Lorne. She managed to pass it off as being an emotional wreck, broke into tears in front of them… but ended up having to sing anyway.”

 

“At which point she ran?” Wesley guessed.

“No, she sang.” I shook my head. “Lorne’s reading didn’t work. He had no idea it wasn’t me.”

Wesley started. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” I nodded meaningfully. “‘Oh’.”

“I don’t suppose Lilah ate any suspicious herbs before going to the hotel?” Wesley said hopefully after a moment. “Calendula extract, say?”

I shook my head. “Nothing. I think whatever magic has bound the two of us together… is powerful enough to fool Lorne.” I swallowed. “That scares the crap out of me, Wes.”

 

“I think I have a lead on the source of the magic.” Wesley said hesitantly.

I fought down the urge to say thank you. “You’re the best, Wesley.” He coloured slightly. “What is it?”

“Before I say…” Wesley drummed his fingers on the table. “I think it would be best if we were sure Lilah can’t emerge to take advantage of the information.”

“Don’t worry, Wesley.” I grinned. “I figured it out. I got her locked down.”

“You know what causes the transformations?” Wesley shut the book and leaned in, eyes fascinated (and fascinating) as they stared into mine. I swallowed. “How?”

 

“Induction.” I licked my lips and glanced off to the side (just to get my bearings, in a normal way, not because of his eyes!), before looking back into his eyes. “I mean, I’ve only got a small sample size so I can’t be entirely sure but… pretty sure. As sure as I can be without letting her take over again.”

“Letting her?” Wesley tilted his head.

 

“When Lilah took over, I started thinking.” I paused. “Why was she acting like me? She hates me. And what I am. And at first I figured she was just doing it to irritate me. But then she said something odd. She said she was just ‘staying in character’. Which got me thinking: maybe Lilah wasn’t just trying to make my life hell. Maybe that was just a cover for her real goal.”

 

_Ah, crap._

 

“Which was?” Wesley asked, enraptured.

"Staying in control of the body.” I grinned. “Think about it. I lost control and she got it, right after the last thing I said to you. Do you remember what that was?” Wesley nodded. “Something you pointed out specifically that Lilah would never say. In other words: I broke character.” Wesley’s eyes lit up. He’d got it.

 

I continued. “Whatever magic this is? It’s put me in Lilah’s body and Lilah in mine. It wants me to act like her, and Lilah to act like me. We’ve been assigned roles. And breaking out of those roles by doing something the other person wouldn’t…”

“Results in the harshest possible punishment.” Wesley murmured. “Loss of control for a potentially unlimited period of time.”  
“Right!” I nodded enthusiastically. “And what really confirmed it is that even though Lilah was in control way longer than I was, she held on for ages. Right up until she said she didn’t care about you. Whichthe person she was acting as would never, ever, ever say.” I smiled shyly. 

 

“And she lost power.” Wesley nodded slowly, eyes bright. “That’s… genius induction, Fred.”

“I’d say the six letter word that starts with T but y’know,” I smiled and shrugged. “Don’t fancy a repeat episode.”

“Very wise.” Wesley agreed, rubbing his chin. “This… this is actually completely in line with my theory of what happened to you.”

“Which is?” I leaned forward, resting my chin on one hand.

 

“The magic at work,” Wesley spoke in a hushed tone. “It’s incredibly powerful. But it’s not just powerful, it’s nuanced. Yours and Lilah’s essences have been somehow merged, you forced into her body and her into yours, and your minds linked to an extent. That’s not body-swapping, that’s reality-bending.” I swallowed.

 

Wesley continued. “And now this new information? Your theory that the magic is shifting the balance of power dependent on your actions compared against the character of the other person? That requires constant monitoring of your activities, combined with perfect knowledge of the other person’s ideals, habits and beliefs. That’s not standard magic. Not even close. What’s more,” Wesley looked at me dead-on. “I believe this magic is specifically tailored to punish both of you.”

 

“Why?”

“You,” Wesley gestured to me. “Have been forced into the body of someone you hate with a vengeance, and who is now able to irritate you at all hours of the day. Further, you are being forced to act as Lilah would: a personality completely at odds with your own. The same obviously applies in reverse. Now. What would you say that having to act like Lilah - day after day, ad infinitum - to avoid losing control of your body and potentially being rendered forever powerless, constitutes?”

“Torture.” I muttered. “I’m being forced into becoming my antithesis. That’s… that’s so evil. And diabolical.”

“Now when we combine that information,” Wesley opened the book. “With our knowledge that the magic involved is phenomenally complex, it leads us to one obvious suspect.”

 

“Who?” I asked, voice hushed. I was hanging on every word.

 

“A being capable of bending reality, and doing so purely to cause you misery. One with access to powerful magics, and the ability to erase your memories.” Wesley handed me the book, tapping the open page. “You’ve been targeted by a Vengeance demon.” Well. That sounded _really_ bad.

I scanned the page quickly. “Like evil Djinn from old stories. You think someone made a wish that punished me? What did I ever do to anyone?” I frowned.

 

Wesley hesitated. “I don’t think _someone_ made a wish, Fred.” Wesley grimaced. “I think _you_ did.”

I blinked. “Huh?”

 

_I knew this was your fault._ Lilah groaned. _I knew it. You stupid bitch._

 

“I retraced your footsteps, Fred.” Wesley explained gently. “They led me to a diner you frequently go to. I questioned the proprietor, who informed me that the last she saw of you, you were conversing with a new member of staff. Then, both of you vanished: when she looked back at the table only a few seconds after last seeing you, you were gone. Into thin air. And that member of staff hasn’t been seen since.”

 

“Somebody new shows up, takes a sudden interest in a particular person, then vanishes right after they do?” I groaned, burying my head in my hands. “That’s practically the Vengeance Demon MO, it’s right here in the book. God, I’m… I’m so stupid!” I’d caused all this! It was my fault: silly little Fred really _had_ gotten herself into trouble and needed to be bailed out.

“No you’re not.” Wesley shook his head deliberately. _Yes you are._ “Vengeance demons are infamous tricksters. Very cunning, masters of disguise.”

 

“No, I am.” I scowled. “I should have known better than to make a wish like a stupid character in a storybook.” I blinked. Wait a second… “My wish was to be _Lilah Morgan?_ Are you kidding me?” 

 

_I wouldn’t blame you. I’m pretty great. I mean, I would blame you. In fact, I’d probably have you killed. But I’d understand._

 

“No, I doubt that.” Wesley shook his head. “Vengeance demons twist the meaning of any wish made.”

“So, what was my wish?” I frowned.

Wesley shrugged. “Unfortunately, I don’t know. The proprietor didn’t hear the conversation and you don’t remember it.”

“Alright.” I nodded. “So, how do we undo the wish?”

Wesley pursed his lips. “Unfortunately, there are only two ways to undo the effects of a wish.”

“I don’t suppose I can click my heels together three times and say there’s no place like home?” I said hopefully. 

Wesley shook his head. “The first is to have the Vengeance Demon who granted the wish undo its effects. They would have to consciously, willingly desire that their magic be undone. Alternatively, we could have them grant you a second wish whilst preventing them misinterpreting it to do us more harm.”

“Neither of those sound likely.” I frowned. “What’s option two?”

“Every Vengeance Demon has a power centre.” Wesley tapped a diagram of a pendant drawn in the book. “Smashing the power centre of the demon who granted your wish could undo this.”

“Could?” I frowned.

“Only recent wishes are undone.” Wesley explained. “If the demon in question granted enough wishes in the intervening period…”

“I’d be screwed.” I sighed miserably. “So either way… we need the Vengeance demon?”

“Yes.” Wesley nodded. “And unfortunately, because the demon in question took the precaution of erasing your memory, we have no idea which one it is.”

 

“There are lots of Vengeance demons?” I asked, stomach sinking. I’d been hoping there were afew dozen at most.

“Hundreds. Perhaps thousands. They have their own hell dimension.” Wesley explained. “Each demon has a distinctive appearance and a… particular fondness for a type of target.”

“Great.” I sighed. “I don’t suppose there’s a telephone directory for Vengeance demons is there?” Wesley shook his head sombrely. Oh, God. Researching this could take days. Weeks. What were we going to tell Charles and Angel? I couldn’t trust Lilah to spin a cover story. And what I’d gotten myself into… if I told them, they’d never take me seriously. Ever. 

 

Plus, I’d be stuck in this body. Looking like Lilah. Talking like her, acting like her. God, the thought of that was unbearable. Plus, I’d have to hide out from Wolfram and Hart, and Angel Investigations. Which probably meant imposing on Wesley by staying in his apartment for _weeks_. He’d be sick and tired of me by the end of it, staying in his apartment for weeks on end, making the place untidy and borderline uninhabitable. This apartment wasn’t very big, I was a messy person (I didn’t try to make mess, it just happened): I would be an unbearable housemate. That would be so awful for Wesley, he'd done enough for me without having to put up with me hanging around his apartment like a bad smell! I guess I could lighten the burden by helping out around the place (cooking and all) but it would still be just awful for him, losing his privacy like that, forced to share his home with annoying little me. And what happened if Charles did another snap search and found me here like this? He’d conclude that Wesley and Lilah were in cahoots! Partnered in some evil scheme or maybe even… no, he’d never assume that. That was a ridiculous thought. Begone, thought!

 

_Actually, there is a directory._ Lilah spoke up.

 

“Huh?” I blinked, focusing on Lilah. “What do you mean?”

 

_Wolfram and Hart does a lot of work for Vengeance demons._ Lilah explained, talking slowly. _In the archives, we have an index of different Vengeance demons. Their typical targets, habits, appearance._

 

“Hang on.” I frowned. “Are you being helpful?”

 

_Hey!_ I felt Lilah do the mental equivalent of a shrug. _I want out of this situation as much as you do, sweetie. Being stuck in the back of your head isn’t exactly thrilling._

 

“What’s Lilah saying?” Wesley asked, voice curious.

“She says Wolfram and Hart has an index of Vengeance demons on record.” I explained. “Their respective targets, appearances… everything we’d need to figure out which one went after me. Kept in their building.”

“And she’s helping because she wants to be put back in her own body?” Wesley guessed.

I nodded. “That’s right.” I hesitated. “And also probably because if we go there and end up getting caught, she can have her employees do whatever weird magic stuff she was planning on having them do anyway. It’s a win-win for her. If we get the information, we can undo the magic and get her her old body back. If we get caught…”

 

“Then she can continue with her original plan.” Wesley nodded. “How very characteristically cunning.”

 

_Tell him to stop, he’ll make me blush._

 

“But even if we broke into Wolfram and Hart,” I swallowed. “And got ahold of this index… I don’t know anything about the demon that granted the wish, so I won’t be able to identify it.”

“There might be a way around that.” Wesley murmured. “Lilah. I assume that magical artefacts are stored inside Wolfram and Hart?”

 

_They are._

 

“She says they are.” I informed Wesley.

“Do you know if they’d have an Orlon window on site?”

 

_Probably. We keep a lot of magical devices._

 

“She says probably.” I frowned. “But she doesn’t sound especially confident. What does an Orlon window do?”

“It’s a device used by warlocks. To view altered memories.” Wesley explained. “But, when one is smashed near someone whose memory has been altered, that person’s original memories are restored.”

“Right.” I nodded. “So… all we need to do is break into Wolfram and Hart, steal an Orlon window so I can remember details about the Vengeance demon that screwed me over, and then steal the index of Vengeance demons?”

“Yes. And do all of that without getting caught.” Wesley frowned. “I must say, I wouldn’t normally like our chances.”

 

“Normally?” I raised an eyebrow. Oh. Right. “But you’re thinking we can use my… predicament to our advantage.”

“Precisely. After I…” Wesley grimaced. “After Angel and I broke off our working relationship, Lilah tried several times to recruit me to work for Wolfram and Hart. It might be time to tell them it worked.”

“That could explain why I left this morning.” I nodded excitedly, hopping onto his train of thought. “I can tell them that I got a call or something and left as quickly as I could to strike while the iron was hot! Then we just go back acting like you’re almost ready to sign a contract, but first…”

“I want proof of Wolfram and Hart’s resources.” Wesley grinned. “Specifically, to examine the collection of artefacts and the archives.”

“Then, once we have what we need, we get the hell out of there.” I couldn’t help but smile. For the first time, we had a plan! One that didn’t involve me sitting here like a lemon!“Then what?”

 

“Once I know what demon we’re dealing with, I should be able to summon and bind them in a place of our choosing.” Wesley said. “Then, we can force them to reverse the wish they granted you. We’ll make it clear that if they don’t cooperate, we’ll smash their pendant and take our chances. No Vengeance demon wants to risk that. You and Lilah will be back to normal.”

 

_Well, you’ll be back to normal. I’ll be back to being exceptional._

 

“Right. Amazing.” I’d _missed_ this. Wesley and I, working together, cracking problems, coming up with plans. I’d forgotten how much fun it was to bounce ideas off him and to try to react when he bounced them right back at high speed. It was good to be challenged. “Well, firstly I think we should head over to Lilah’s apartment. I need another suit.”

 

“Good idea.” Wesley nodded, standing up. “On the way there, we can work on your Lilah impression. Make sure you don’t say the wrong thing while we’re in there, let Lilah come out to play.”

I shuddered. “Yeah. One time being stuck in the back of Lilah’s head and being constantly made a mockery of for hours was enough. I don’t fancy being put permanently under her thumb.”

 

Come on, _Fred._ Lilah purred. _It wouldn’t be so bad. I’d take good care of you. Promise._

 

I shuddered. 

 

\+ + + + + + +

 

“How’s this?” I fixed Wesley with my best attempt at a cold and haughty gaze. “Sufficiently evil?”

“Hmm.” Wesley frowned. “Try that, but make it look like you don’t care at all. Like I’m a bug to squash, not a human being to belittle.” I tried to look thoroughly disinterested. Wesley nodded approvingly.

 

“God, I’m so bad at being evil.” I couldn’t help but giggle. We’d been practicing facial expressions and walks for almost an hour in Lilah’s apartment and I still doubted I was entirely convincing.

“That’s probably a good thing.” Wesley remarked dryly, smile creeping onto his face. “Wouldn’t want you to be tempted by the dark side.”

 

_We have cookies!_ Lilah called. _Join us!_ I snorted with laughter. “You seem to be getting on better with Lilah.” Wesley observed.

“Kinda.” I shrugged. “She’s not actively obstructing or annoying me anymore. Which sorta makes me worry even more, y’know?”

“Yes.” Wesley’s brow furrowed. “Fred. If you don’t want to risk going into Wolfram and Hart, I can try it on my own. Maybe call in a few favours, get Angel on side without mentioning you. I’m sure we could make a good go at it.”

I shook my head. “I got myself into this mess. I want to at least be a little helpful in getting out. Besides, it’s a lot easier to just get me a look at the Index and break the Orlon thingy near me than it is to sneak both of them out of the building. If I’m with you, you don’t need to risk dealing with whatever Wolfram and Hart’s anti-theft mechanisms are.”

“I imagine they involve fire.” Wesley frowned. “And scorpions.”

 

_Close enough._

 

“And, to double check, I should avoid…” I paused for breath. “Thanking people genuinely, being nice to people, expressing shock or disgust at any of Wolfram and Hart’s activities, trying to help anyone else selflessly… that about cover it?”

“Pretty much.” Wesley nodded. “Just trust your instincts. And if you feel like Lilah is taking over…”

“I’ll tell you.” I nodded. “And we’ll get out of sight. Then we can either sneak out of the building or Lilah will hand control back over until we’re out.”

 

_We’ll see how the mood takes me_.

 

“That’s right.” Wesley folded up a piece of paper he’d been writing on while helping me with my impression and offered it to me. “And if for whatever reason I end up delayed… this is the spell you need to summon and bind the Vengeance demon. Just insert the demon’s name into the relevant spaces I’ve left blank.”

I spoke carefully. “If I were the type of person to show appreciation…There’s a chance I’d show it at this moment. But we’re gonna walk out of there together.”

“That’s the plan.” Wesley nodded. “Do you feel sufficiently evil?”

 

“I was _born_ evil.” I grinned, then faltered. “I guess that expression works better with ‘ready’, doesn’t it? Because I wasn’t born evil, I was born normal and really I only became evil when I woke up this morning as Lilah, and even then I’d argue I’m not really evil so…” I cut myself off, feeling heat flood my cheeks. Why was I like this?

 

Wesley burst out laughing. “I’ve missed you, Fred.” He chuckled, face shifting into a wide smile.

I smiled, trying not to think too much about the butterflies in my stomach. “I’ve missed you too, Wes.” I hugged him. It was good to be back with a friend. Trapped inside Lilah… I’d been so lonely. This was a thousand times better.

 

_And here was me thinking you already had a boy toy, Fred._ Lilah remarked, voice suddenly cold. _Or were you thinking of upgrading?_

 

I felt my blood run cold, pulling away from Wesley and rubbing the back of my neck. Wesley frowned. “Fred, are you-”

“I’m fine.” I tried to smile reassuringly, head spinning all the while. I shouldn’t feel guilty. I was allowed to hug my friends. Charles had never had a problem with me hugging Angel or Lorne or Cordy. Wesley was just a friend. I wasn’t doing anything wrong by hugging him. 

 

But even to me, the words rang hollow. I nodded at Wesley, who looked sheepish. “Let’s do this.”

 

\+ + + + + + +

 

“I can do this.” I loosened my grip on the briefcase slightly. “I can do this. I’m evil. So evil. I think evil thoughts. Not stroking puppies. Taking the last biscuit. Not replacing the toilet roll. Reclining the seat all the way back on airplane fights.”

“You know, I think that last one really sells it.” A smile played across Wesley’s lips on the street corner. “You sound very evil to me right now.”  
“Shut up. Idiot.” I thumped him lightly.

“Demeaning and violent.” Wesley rubbed his arm and grinned. “Now you’re getting it.”

 

I giggled, then restrained myself. I took a deep breath, drew myself up to Lilah’s full height, set my face in a callous, bitchy, slightly smug expression and started walking. Wesley fell into step beside me, face grim and cautious: an appropriate state of mind for someone preparing to make a deal with Wolfram and Hart. Perhaps even more appropriate for someone trying to cheat them. I walked deliberately, calmly into the lobby and up to the desk. “Visitor pass for this one.” I jerked a thumb at Wesley without looking at him. “Now.”

“Yes, Ms Morgan.” The receptionist nodded and began typing. The security guards eyed Wesley cautiously. “Reason for visit?”

“Recruitment.” I played a smug smile across Lilah’s face, casting Wesley a sideways glance. A few seconds later, a badge was slid across the counter. I swiped it up and calmly pinned it to Wesley’s jacket. “Welcome to your new life.” I smirked, turning on my heel to walk away.

“Not yet.” Wesley replied coldly. “You still have some work to do to convince me.”

“I’m well aware. I just already know what you’ll say.” I strolled past the security people without blinking. “I can’t wait to see the look on your face when I show you the archive. I wonder whether you’ll cry?” Wesley shot me a withering look in response, which I did my best not to wilt under. Just relax, Fred, it’s all an act. He doesn’t hate you.

 

One security guard started to move forwards as if to stop Wesley, but I gave him a cold stare and he slunk backwards, looking down at his feet. I nodded imperiously and walked to the elevators, shooting an intern who started hovering next to us a death glare that made him scurry off. I felt a severe pang of guilt and hurried into the elevator once it opened. “Going well so far.” Wesley murmured once the lift had started moving.

I nodded, tapping one foot on the floor. “First stop… the Repository.” 

 

The doors pinged open and I paused for a second, realised belatedly that Lilah would take the lead, and started walking. I followed the wall-signs for the Repository, doing my best to avoid acknowledging the nods and greetings tossed my way. “I’m confident you’ll be quite impressed by the Repository.”

“You’re always confident.” Wesley replied mildly as we rounded the last counter. “But not as often correct.”

 

A set of wooden panelled double doors lay at the end of the corridor. I pushed them open, entering a small office beyond and trying to act like I knew where I was going. A young lady was sitting behind a desk, typing at a computer. The office was strikingly impersonal, with no decoration or other furniture. The only other feature was a door in the back of the room, presumably leading to the rest of the storage.

 

“Ms Morgan.” The woman behind the desk stood up. “What can I do for you?”

“Mr Wyndam-Pryce is of the opinion that our Repository might be lacking.” I narrowed my eyes ever so slightly, hating myself for browbeating this probably overworked, unfortunate woman. “I trust you’ll be able to disappoint him.”

 

“I can do that.” The woman swallowed, turning to look at Wesley, who was standing there, arms crossed, a distinctly unimpressed look on his face. “What are you looking for?”

“Let’s start with an easy one. Orb of Thesulah.” 

“We have several dozen stored. Do you have a colour preference?”

“No, that’s too pedestrian actually.” Wesley pursed his lips, fixing the girl with a cruel stare. “Sticking with a theme of orbs, do you have one of Ramjarin?”

“Yes, we do.”

“Kraken’s tooth.”

“Incisor, Canine or Molar?”

“Krakens don’t have molars. Nice try.” The woman flushed and I forced a dry chuckle out. I knew we had to do this not to raise suspicions… but I still felt like a bitch. “Delothrian’s Ebb.”

“Of course.”

“And I trust you have binding powder?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Bring me your strongest specimen.” The woman glanced at me. I nodded. She stood up, making for the door in the back of the room.

 

Wesley continued almost casually, like it was an afterthought. “Oh, and while you’re back there grab an Orlon Window.” The woman stiffened. “Unless, of course, you don’t have one?”

She hesitated. “We… we do have one. Just one.” She glanced at me and swallowed. “I’m not supposed to get it out of its box.”

“I don’t believe you.” Wesley smirked.

“Get him his damn window.” I said, shooting an angry glare at Wesley and putting some frustration into my voice. Wesley had reassured me that this was the best way to make sure whoever would be handling the repository brought the Orlon Window, without having to make a scene. They’d be worried enough that ‘Lilah’ might take out her frustration on them that they’d comply without threats.

 

_I never knew you had such a talent for being a heartless bitch._ Lilah remarked, but her voice was odd. It almost sounded like she wasn’t enjoying making fun of me any more.

 

The woman nodded, bustling into the back room. “I feel bad.” I whispered to Wesley.

“Sorry.” He muttered. “But Orlon Windows aren’t cheap or easy to come by. This was the best way to make sure we got one brought to us.” I nodded unhappily.

 

She returned a few minutes later, carrying a little drawstring bag and clutching a small wooden case to her chest, putting it down carefully on the table. She handed the bag to Wesley who opened it, glanced inside and nodded grudgingly. “Not awful.” He pocketed the bag and the woman winced quietly. “Now. The Window.” Wesley stepped right up to the desk and opened the clasps on the box, gently opening the lid. Nestled inside the box (the interior of which was lined with what looked like silk, of all things) was what I assumed to be the Orlon Window: a small cube of glass and metal, glowing a soft yellow.

 

Wesley casually lifted it out of the box and held it up next to his eye, examining it. “Hmm.” He said after a second. “Not bad.” He tossed it from one to the other, holding it up to his other eye while the woman kept her eyes glued to the cube, a bead of sweat rolling down her forehead. It made me feel very bad about what was about to happen. “It’s cloudy.” Wesley murmured. “Needs polishing.” He transferred it to his other hand without looking, polishing it with one jacket sleeve. He was beginning to lift it back up when he ‘accidentally’ dropped it onto the floor, where it exploded with a blast of yellow light and smoke. I gasped as I was tossed backwards, coughing as that unpleasant smoke filled my lungs-

 

\+ + + + + + +

 

“I’ll give you _one_ more, then I am cutting you off.” The waitress said in a lightly scolding tone as she refilled my coffee mug for the eighth time.

“Oh, sorry.” I said sheepishly, turning to look up at her. Her name-tag said Sandy. She was new to the diner. Not the usual waitress. “I can pay for the next one?” I offered. Coffee helped. Coffee kept me alert and let me focus solely on the bitter taste of it, rather than on everything I didn’t want to think about.

 

Like the fact that I was a murderer.

 

“It’s not the free refills I’m worried about.” Sandy carefully put the jug down on the table and sat opposite me. “It’s you vibrating into another dimension after the tenth cup.”

I stared ruefully at my mug of coffee, suddenly feeling no desire to take a sip. “Nobody wants that.” I said softly. At least, not any more. Not after I… he… we… not after we did what we did. 

 

“Why don’t you call him?” Sandy asked gently, smiling understandingly. “You’ve been sitting here all day, he’s probably worried sick. Dani told me all about you two. He’ll be fretting.”

“I don’t know what I’d say.” I replied quietly, swirling my coffee slowly.

 

Where would I even start? Did I apologise for running off? But I didn’t feel bad for running off, I’d had to do it, I’d had to get away and think (not that thinking had done me any good so far). Did I apologise for being distant for the last few weeks? How could I be anything  _but_ distant after what we’d done? After what he’d tried to stop me from doing? Did I apologise for trying to get revenge in the first place?

 

No. I wouldn’t do that. Seidel had deserved it. I’d saved who-knows how many lives by putting a stop to him. I’d needed to do that: to stop anyone else suffering the way I had. But also to get closure. I didn’t have that now. All I felt was guilt, confusion, and loss. And a horrible, nagging feeling that… 

 

That my friends didn’t know me. That they couldn’t see anything other than a sweet little girl who needed protecting. That they couldn’t even consider the possibility that I’d needed to avenge _myself_. I thought Charles had known me better than that. Maybe I’d been wrong. No. I  _had_ been wrong. That much was obvious. And even now, he still didn’t get it. I sighed: what on Earth was I going to do?

 

“I think ‘Hello’ would probably do it?” Sandy suggested, snapping me out of my reverie. Just talk to Charles and pretend nothing had ever happened? How could I do that? “Everyone around here sees the way he looks at you. That man would do _anything_ for you.”

And there was the sharp stab of pain and guilt in my chest. “I know.” I said quietly. All too well.

 

“Life is what it is.” Sandy sighed. “Things happen. Things beyond our power to control. You can’t change the hand you’ve been dealt. And you can’t change the past either. We are who we are. We’ve done what we’ve done. All that’s left is to keep going forwards.”

 

“I know.” I sighed, looking Sandy in the eyes for the first time. But life for me had been so _complicated_. Five years in hell. A temporary brush with crazy. Friendship, betrayal… and now this. This mess. It was too much to deal with. “I just… everything is just so complicated right now. Sometimes I…” It was silly. 

 

“Sometimes you what?” Sandy looked curious. 

 

I sighed. It sounded so _cowardly_. “Sometimes I just… I wish I was somebody else.”

 

And Sandy’s face _shifted._ A moment ago she’d been a young, ordinary looking woman. Now her skin was mottled with veins and a horrible raw pink. Demon. Oh fish-sticks. “Done.” She replied with a truly demonic grin, in a voice turned raspy and guttural.

 

“On second thought, I-” I managed before everything faded to black.

 

\+ + + + + + +

 

\- and slammed into the wall, doubling over coughing. The room was filled with smoke, acrid yellow stuff. I coughed, trying to wave away as much as I could. The desk had been overturned, the woman was collapsed against the back wall and Wesley was struggling to his feet on my right. “I remember.” I gasped. I shut my eyes and pressed both hands to my temples, fighting the headache. I hadn’t just seen it or heard it: _I’d lived through it_. I remembered what I was thinking all that time in the diner. The deeply unpleasant conclusions I’d reached: that my friends didn’t know me as well as I’d thought. That Charles didn’t either.

 

A conclusion unhappily borne out by the events of today. I shook my head, trying to clear it.

 

_Wow._ Lilah muttered. _That… that_ really _sucked._

 

“You saw all that?” I asked hesitantly. _Unfortunately, yes. What a stupid wish. Idiot. I’d ask what you were thinking, but I just experienced your entire thought process firsthand. Idiot._

She experienced my thought process? So she hadn’t just been watching, she’d… she’d felt all my thoughts… which made sense, because we were linked and I’d just felt them through the window. She’d effectively read my mind. Or that of my past self. My skin crawled.

I groaned and opened my eyes. Wesley was straightening up next to the unconscious worker. “She’ll be fine.” He reported, turning to face me. “Sorry. I hadn’t expected that to be quite so… dramatic. I was imagining ‘puff of smoke’, not ‘live grenade’.”

“Well, we got what we needed at least.” I slipped out the door and Wesley followed me. Once we were in the elevator headed for the basement I continued. “I know what she looks like and I know she called herself Sandy. Is that enough?”

“Should be.” Wesley nodded. “Vengeance demons aren’t typically inventive when choosing fake names. What did you wish for?”

“I…” I hesitated. It felt embarrassing. Cowardly. But I hadn’t _really_ wanted it. Wesley would know that. I could trust Wesley: he understood me. “I wished I was somebody else.”

“So the demon made you Lilah Morgan.” Wesley shook his head disbelievingly. “Not just the body but the entire life. You even have a little Lilah in the back of your head and you’re… incentivised to act as Lilah would in all situations.” The elevator doors pinged open and we started walking.

“Just like you said: punishing me.” I sighed. “I just wish I know what I’d done.”

“I think this,” Wesley nodded to the sign saying ‘Files & Records’ “Is where we figure that out. Ladies first.” I cut myself off a second before I said ‘thanks’ (politeness was such a liability) and headed inside.

 

The room was dingy. Cinderblock walls, very faint fluorescent lights overhead. There was a desk against the opposite wall with a different woman sitting behind it. 

 

_That’s Gwen._ Lilah informed me. _She’s Files and Records._

 

Guess she was in charge of this place. I walked up to the desk and stood there expectantly. “Ms Morgan.” Gwen smiled eerily, speaking in a creepy, slightly mechanical voice. “How can I help you?”

“I’m looking for information on Vengeance demons. Where do I find that?” 

“Are you looking for information on a particular demon, or just general information?”

“General information.”

“Take the second corridor on the right,” Gwen pointed down the room. “Then the third exit on your left and it’s the fourteenth through nineteenth cabinets on your right.” Gwen went back to working like I’d never been there. I blinked.

 

_She’s Files and Records._ Lilah sighed. _It’s her job and it’s creepy._

 

I decided not to ask and began following Gwen’s instructions, Wesley a step behind me. Fortunately, it seemed Wolfram and Hart employees didn’t spend much time down here: with the exception of Gwen, we didn’t encounter anyone else on our journey past the seemingly-endless rows of filing cabinets.

 

“Here’s cabinet fourteen.” I muttered. “I wonder how it’s all sorted?”

“If there’s an Index of all known Vengeance demons,” Wesley muttered. “It would logically be near either the start or the end of the section. I’ll take the nineteenth cabinet and work backwards, you do the opposite?”

“You got it.” I pulled open the filing cabinet drawer and blanched at the sheer volume of paperwork present. I gritted my teeth and got to work. Information on the Vengeance demon home dimension, list of dealings with amenable demons, a list of employees who transferred to become Vengeance demons…

 

“Found it.” Wesley declared, slamming a thick folder down onto the floor. “Dossier of all known Vengeance demons.”

“You’re brilliant!” I gasped, shifting up to his side.

“Just a little.” He smiled faintly and I grinned at him as I opened the folder. Every demon had its own page, which included a photo (or sometimes a sketch), a name, any aliases they went by and their preferred target demographic. I started looking.

 

“This is too thick.” I muttered, turning the page again. “It’ll take me hours to get through it.”

“Do you think they’ll know if we try to remove it?” Wesley mused, glancing meaningfully at the lifeless catacomb of filing cabinets surrounding us.

“Well, considering public libraries have figured out how to tag their books and have an alarm go off when they’re stolen, I imagine that Wolfram and Hart have a system at least approaching that level of complexity.” I pointed out.

“I think you’re starting to absorb Lilah’s sarcasm.” Wesley grinned.

“Hush.” I stuck my tongue out at him and Wesley laughed. 

 

I started to look through the dossier. “So.” I tried to sound casual and failed miserably. “Wolfram and Hart tried to recruit you.”

“They did.” Wesley - still sitting down - leaned back against the nearest filing cabinet. “Didn’t work. Obviously.”

“What was the sales pitch like?” I asked curiously. “Did a demon appear out of thin air and offer you thirteen silver pieces for your soul?”

“Close.” Wesley smiled a half-smile. “Someone who looked an awful lot like you do now - minus the interested expression and warm eyes - showed up at my door and barged in to offer me a job.”

 

_Ah, those were the days._ Lilah sighed. _The days when I could barge into places. I miss barging. Also shouting. And swaggering. What a terrible curse you’ve brought down on me._

 

“What did she offer you? Unlimited power? Corner office?” I grinned. “Attractive personal assistant?”  
Wesley chuckled. “Close. She complimented me on my skills, then bragged about Wolfram and Hart’s library, then offered me a nice salary with dental and medical benefits.”

“How nice a salary?”

“I think it was about four hundred thousand dollars per annum. If memory serves.” Wesley tapped his chin. Wow. Evil really did pay. “And I was reassured that if I went there, I’d be able to do some good. Better to be frustrating evil quietly than sitting on the sidelines, rotting away in an empty apartment. Not her exact words. But close.”

 

“That sounds like a pretty juicy offer.” I swallowed. 

“They always sound that way.” Wesley mused. “Devils’ bargains, that is.”

“Why didn’t you take it?” I stopped any pretence of reading the file to focus on Wesley.

He blinked, eyes darkening. “I was lonely, Fred.” He said quietly, looking at the floor. “Not evil.”

“Oh, I know!” I gasped, only now realising how that had come out. God, I was such an idiot. “What I mean to say is… we didn’t exactly give you any reason to be good to us. The opposite in fact. And a smart guy like you, you could have run rings round everyone in this building. Probably be running this place inside a few years.”

“Yes.” Wesley smiled ruefully. “Because I wanted to give Angel more reason to cleave my head in two with a battle axe.” I looked down at the file. His gaze wasn’t accusing. Not a shred of anger. 

 

That was so much worse. Angel had tried to _kill_ him and… and I hadn’t done anything to call him out on that. None of us had. Why couldn’t he just be mad at me? It would be much easier if he was.

 

“In all seriousness, though…” Wesley hesitated. “Even if I believed coming to work here might have done some good in the long run… well. I would have been doing it alone. And if there’s one thing I should take away from… recent events, it’s that I can’t operate alone. And I don’t much like it.”

“You don’t?”

“I hate it.” Wesley sighed. “It’s oppressive. And I don’t function well besides.”  
“You could have fooled me.” I raised an eyebrow. “You rescued Angel and got intel on Cordy while the rest of us ran around chasing ghosts and taking Angel’s abductor out to the movies.”

“And you saw what kind of state that left me in by the time you saw me.” Wesley reached up to his face but grasped empty air, then returned his hand awkwardly to his side. Like he’d been reaching up to polish glasses that he no longer wore. “I lose sight of what’s important without other people. I… try to do what is best for everyone. And I disregard individuals. Not consciously but… I do it.”

“Sometimes the situation calls for a strategist.” I pointed out.

“Yes.” Wesley sighed. “But the world needs heroes. People who live in their hearts. Not their brains.”

“So brainy people can’t be heroes?” I frowned. “That’s ridiculous.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Wesley leaned forward to place one - very warm, pleasantly rough - hand gently on my cheek. “You’re a lot brainier than me, Fred. Your mind is an amazing thing. But that’s not where you live. Your heart has equal say, if not greater. You do right by _every person_ , not just by everyone… am I making any sense?”

“A little.” I smiled. “Except for the part where you’re not a hero. You saved me, didn’t you? From the slugs. And you’re helping me now. It sure ain’t rational to do so. If you wanted to help people in general - or even just me - you’d have left me alone and told Angel everything about Lilah and me, and damn my pride.”

“We all have weaknesses.” Wesley said quietly, and withdrew his hand. I was surprised how much I missed it.

 

“I wanted you to come back.” I blurted into the ensuing silence. I felt the urge to say it. “I was trying to get Cordy to talk to Angel before the slug-thing. I wanted you back the whole time, and I wanted to go to you for help with Angel and Cordy but nobody else agreed with me. I... I tried _so_ hard.”

“The door was slammed from both sides.” Wesley shrugged. “I certainly didn’t encourage Gunn to come back and ask for help again after the first time. I was angry and bitter and foolish.”

“And what are you now?”

“Not angry or bitter.” Wesley sighed. “And I would like to come back. Yesterday night… it felt special, in a way. I was preparing to fight alongside Angel and Gunn again. Like old times. Obviously there was tension but… we were in a team. It felt like something was about to happen. Like I might be… coming back to the group. Apparently not.”

“I’ll advocate for you.” I offered, scooting a bit closer to him on the floor. “I mean, if they were willing to accept you back yesterday, there’s no reason not to accept you now.”

“There was an apocalypse yesterday.” Wesley pointed out.

“And with our luck, there’ll be another one tomorrow.” I paused. “Wes… if you don’t want to be alone… and you want to come back… and Angel is willing to have you back… then just come back.”

“Fred, I’m not sure that-”

 

“For me.” I said very quietly. Wesley stopped talking. “Come back for me. Please. _Please_.” I felt awful. Awful for doing this. When he’d already done so much for me, to be asking for this, to be asking _like_ _this_ … but Wesley couldn’t just dangle the hope that I could have him back working alongside me in front of my nose, then take it away. I missed him. So much.

 

I missed sharing tea and coffee with him over work, bantering constantly about whether one was superior. I missed the way his whole face would just light up when he cracked a problem, how animated he’d become when explaining it to us (Or rather, to me, and then we’d explain it to the group together, which took longer). I missed having somebody around who I always knew would be in _my_ corner, not the corner they wanted me to be in. Right beside me. Backing me up. Trying to talk me out of doing something he disagreed with, but ultimately willing to help me no matter what. I missed having someone around who challenged me intellectually, who could keep up with me - or get ahead of me! - and whom I could discuss scientific theories with, or the finer points of classical literature.

 

There was a Wesley-shaped hole in my life that had only _ached_ more the longer he spent away. I wanted him back. I wanted to spend time with him, wanted to work with him, wanted to save the world with him. 

 

I wanted my Wesley back.

 

Wesley opened and closed his mouth. He rubbed his jaw. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. I didn’t look away from him. He opened his eyes and looked directly into mine. I suppressed a shiver. “For you.” He said quietly and smiled. Not a rueful or sarcastic smile. Not a humorous grin. A real smile.

 

A happy smile. I returned it and pulled him into a tight hug. “Tango Yankee. Tango Yankee Sierra Mike.” 

Wesley laughed. “I missed you.”

“Missed you too.” After a minute I gently began to move away and Wesley unwrapped his arms. My heart was beating uncomfortably fast so I took a few deep breaths and refocused my attention on the page of the dossier I’d been avoiding reading for most of the preceding conversation. I hid my smile behind the document: Wesley was coming back. At long last. 

 

This page obviously didn’t refer to my demon so I moved to the next one and glanced at the photo. It was her! I scrutinised the photo more closely: definitely her! I quickly scanned the rest of the information. The demon’s name was apparently Cassandra (hence the alias Sandy) and she exacted vengeance on behalf of those vengeance had been stolen by another.

 

“Wesley!” I leapt to my feet and thrust the page at him. “I found her! I found her!”

Wesley took the page and read through it, then nodded. “So you did. Well done, Fred.”

“So, what now?” I grinned expectantly, almost hopping with excitement. “You can summon her, right? Get her to fix this?”

“Well, I will need some time.” Wesley frowned. My stomach dropped. Oh God, this wasn’t going to be one of those long rituals that took months of preparation was it? “Say… five minutes to get out of the building. Half an hour to get back to my place. Five minutes for a cup of tea, perhaps a short nap-”

“How long?” I demanded, shoving him playfully. 

“All things considered?” Wesley raised an eyebrow. I nodded. “One to two hours. Maximum.”

“YES!” I laughed happily and threw my arms around him. 

 

Yes! Yes! I was going to be _me_ again! I wouldn’t have to deal with having Lilah in the back of my head sniping at me, or worried that she was going to take over and humiliate me, or avoid being polite and nice to people, or have to hide from my friends who thought I was evil! This was amazing!

 

_Guess the nightmare’s finally over._ Lilah remarked dryly.

 

“You’re an incredible human being!” I beamed up at Wesley, pure euphoria pumping through my veins. He beamed right back. “I could kiss you!” 

 

Wesley blinked. I stiffened, realising what I’d just said to Wesley… who I was pretty sure had feelings for me. In the romantic sense and had for a while. Handsome, smart, funny Wesley who was intensely, magnetically, _gravitationally_ attractive and… whose eyes were fixed on mine. Absolutely focused. Smouldering. I was suddenly reminded of how close we were standing, wrapped in each other’s arms. Before I could apologise, or say anything, Wesley’s right hand had trailed up my arm to gently stroke my cheek, brushing a few stray curls behind my ear. I shivered at his touch. Wesley’s eyes never once left mine as he slowly bent down to kiss me. 

 

Heat surged through me and I reacted on instinct, pulling him tighter against me. Wesley’s other hand moved to rest on my upper back, holding my close and I lost all track of time and who I was, what I looked like or why I cared because this was the most passionate, desperate kiss of my life. It felt like a lifetime later when Wesley gently moved his face away from mine, thumb rubbing soft circles on my cheek, goosebumps following in his wake. I gasped for air. “I never saw Lilah.” Wesley whispered. “I’ve always seen _you._ In your eyes, I can see you. Only _you_.”

 

_Woah._ Lilah mumbled, sounding distinctly dizzy. I realised with a start that Lilah had been going through the same sensations I was. _Well, well. I’d never have thought it. Winifred Burkle - paragon of all virtue and light - cheating on her devoted lover with his former best friend. Props._

 

Red flushed my cheeks and I stood there paralysed. Charles. Oh god, what had I done?

 

“That was wrong.” I managed to say quietly. Weakly. I hated the lack of conviction in my voice. That kiss had stolen any impetus from me, and I was struggling very hard against a near-irrepressible urge to slam Wesley up against one of these filing cabinets and kiss him over and over.

“Are you sure?” Wesley asked, voice soft and gentle. As gentle as his embrace, as the hand still gently stroking my cheek. Much gentler than that fiercely passionate look he was giving me, eyes still fixed on mine.

“I…” I closed my eyes to get away from that look, because it was making me want to keep going and I _couldn’t._ I swallowed. “Please let go of me.”

 

I hated myself for feeling a pang of disappointment as Wesley swiftly unwrapped his arms and I removed mine, him taking a step backwards away from me. “I’m with Charles.” I said quietly, opening my eyes.Because even if we hadn’t kissed or hugged or touched each other since… since what we’d done (what he hadn’t let me do) we were still together and I… oh God, what was wrong with me? 

 

Wesley didn’t respond. “We should go.” I managed.

“Good idea.” Wesley nodded. “You still have the instructions I gave you for summoning and binding the demon?”

I patted my pocket, feeling the reassuring weight of the folded paper. “Yeah. Why?” Was… was he leaving? No, Wesley wouldn’t do that, he wouldn’t just -

“Here’s the binding powder.” He offered me the drawstring bag. I accepted it mutely. He was just gonna _leave_. I felt a sharp stab of anger and hurt. How could he just leave, after we had… when I needed- “If you want me to leave once we’re out of the building, I understand.” Wesley continued, voice soft. “You shouldn’t feel… bound to me, until we split you from Lilah.”

I felt a pang of guilt for thinking so little of him. “You don’t have to go.”

“Then I won’t.” Wesley began gathering up documents to stuff back into the cabinet and I joined him, jerking away when our elbows bumped accidentally. I walked ahead of him out of Files and Records and back through Wolfram and Hart, trying to ignore Lilah’s monologue.

 

_I never had you pegged as the decisive sort._ Lilah mused. _But isn’t this a little bit extreme? I mean, how would your precious Charles react to the news you’ve kissed Wesley, when my sources tell me you and your toy have been frosty for weeks?_

 

_The mind boggles, doesn’t it? I guess you really did decide to upgrade your boy toy. And you didn’t even need to use my body to do it._

 

I was reminded vividly of the way Wesley had refused to look at any part of me except my eyes - the place he’d said he could see _me_ most clearly - and had been utterly disinterested in Lilah’s body’s various charms. I swallowed. This was such a mess. It should be obvious. I was in a relationship with Charles, the kiss had been wrong and I should set Wesley straight and act like it never happened.

 

But I couldn’t stop thinking about it. And it hadn’t felt wrong (had felt so, so  _right_ ). And my mind kept jumping - inconveniently - to the conclusion I’d reached yesterday in thee diner that Charles didn’t really know or understand me. I swallowed.

 

_Personally, I still can’t believe Wesley looks twice at you._ Lilah’s voice had gotten noticeably quieter. _It’s not that you’ve been nice to him. It’s not that you’re a paragon of virtue, because if you were you wouldn’t kiss him. Can’t be brains, because you have to be a royal idiot to end up in this situation. Can’t be the way you look, because let’s face it-_

 

“Just shut up!” I yelled without thinking, beyond grateful that I was in one of the elevators with nobody but Wesley. Lilah quieted down.

“You won’t have to deal with her much longer.” Wesley pointed out. I nodded mutely, resisting the urge to look at him.

 

The lift doors opened onto the lobby and I started walking. Fifty steps left to the exit. Twenty-five. “Ms Morgan.” Gavin called from behind me. I just wanted to leave… but better to get rid of Gavin first, avoid suspicion. I turned around… to face Gavin, flanked by six security guards holding tasers or truncheons (with pistols holstered), and an intimidating man with a shaved head, looking at me intently.

 

“Gavin.” I sneered. “What now?”

“I came to ask about an incident at the repository.” Gavin smiled smugly. “Huge explosion. Know anything about that?”

My skin prickled. Gavin didn’t talk to Lilah like that. Between that and the security, something was up. This was bad. Wesley spoke first. “The idiot clerk dropped an Orlon Window. Knocked herself unconscious.”

“Really?” Gavin’s smile widened. “Is that what happened, _Ms Morgan?”_

“Yeah.” I looked at him haughtily. “Don’t you have some pencils to arrange in a straight line Gavin? I’m kind of busy.”

“I don’t think the clerk did drop the Orlon Window.” Gavin said. “I think Wesley did and you covered for him. Didn’t even report it. Why would you do that?”

“You think I care what you do to him? Please.” I snorted. “I don’t give a damn. He’s just an asset.”

 

“Maybe to Lilah Morgan he is.” Gavin grinned. “But not to you. Because you’re not Lilah Morgan. Am I right?” He turned to the bald man.

The bald man nodded. “She’s lying. And afraid. And she doesn’t know who I am, even though she should…” His brow creased and a bead of sweat rolled down his forehead. “But… she’s _definitely_ Lilah Morgan.” He sagged slightly, groaning and clutching his head.

“Huh.” Gavin blinked. “Guess you even got the mind-readers stumped. Oh well. I can figure out exactly what you are later. Preferably after a couple of weeks in a holding dimension. Round ‘em up.”

 

The security guards began advancing. I swallowed. If we tried to run, they could just shoot us. But if they captured us, then who knows what-

 

Wesley lunged forwards and slammed an elbow into the first guard’s face, sending him reeling, then followed up by slamming a fist into the stomach of the man next to him, causing him to double over. “Run!” Wesley yelled, turning to face the remaining guards. “Get to safety. Fix this. I can handle myself, just go!”

 

So I turned and ran. I sprinted as fast as I could down the sidewalk, trying to desperately ignore the burning pain that flared up in my sides once I’d started running. “You ever consider jogging?” I gasped to Lilah accusingly. Why couldn’t she have stayed fit? I’d barely been running a minute when I had to stop. I ducked into an alley and collapsed against the wall, gasping for air. God, I hurt so much. How the hell could I hurt so much just from running?

 

_Left him behind._ Lilah observed. _That’s cold._

 

“Wesley can handle himself.” I wheezed, clutching my sides and trying to ignore the ache in my legs. “He was just giving me a head start. Probably because he knew how unfit you’d be!”

 

_Yeah._ And I could tell Lilah was smirking. _See, the thing is Fred… I’m not that unfit._

 

I felt a horrible icy chill stealing through me as the world began spinning. I stumbled to one knee, bracing both hands on the ground to keep myself vaguely upright. “No…” I gasped, feeling that familiar, terrible vicelike force beginning to press down on me.

 

_Oh, yes. Don’t worry, Fred. I’ll take very good care of you._


	5. Sixth Sense

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wes and Fred's plan goes off the rails as Lilah enacts a scheme of her own, with dire consequences for them both.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for some very, very heavy angst.

I tried to fight it. I scrambled to my feet and held myself upright by clutching a dumpster, my knuckles turning white as I clung to it desperately. But it wasn’t enough. She was taking over. Lilah was taking over. I let out a howl of pain and fell back to the floor, curling in on myself as I started to convulse. I tried desperately to keep my eyes open. I failed. And eventually the pain stopped.

 

I had no strength left to fight with as Lilah slowly got to her feet, dusting herself off. I knew it would be pointless to resist. Lilah glanced herself up and down. “Still Fred Burkle.” Lilah murmured in my own voice. A calculating, measured variation of my voice. “Right. There’s work to be done.” No playfulness. No jabs. No mockery. Lilah strode purposefully out of the alley and flagged down a taxicab. I tensed, waiting for a thunderstorm.

 

Once she was sitting in the cab, Lilah slouched against the door and slipped her hand into our inside jacket pocket to take out Wesley’s instructions, holding it up so she could read them. And so could I.

 

_We’ve got everything we need!_ I said slowly. _Binding powder, incantation, the demon’s name and sphere of influence… all we need to do is find a nice secluded spot and we can get this nightmare over with!_

 

Lilah covered her mouth with one hand and spoke softly so only I could hear. “I’m not exactly keen on summoning this demon without Wesley around to back us up.”

 

_It’s a pretty simple spell._ I frowned. _I’m sure you can do it!_

 

“Yeah, if nothing goes wrong.” Lilah muttered. “Vengeance demons are unpredictable and very tough customers. I’d rather have a mystical expert on hand in case we need to… strengthen the binding or something, I don’t know.” Lilah kept her eyes fixed on the sky as the cab drove down the road: the sky was very pretty tonight. It probably wasn’t long now until sunset. Between practicing being evil and infiltrating Wolfram and Hart, we’d lost of the afternoon. 

 

Speaking of being evil, what had I done or said that was out of character? Why had I lost control? I frowned and started going over what I’d done before fleeing Wolfram and Hart. Nothing stood out. _I suppose._ I said absent-mindedly to Lilah. _So, that’s why you’re going back to Wesley’s place? To wait for him._

 

“I was planning on just grabbing clothes and getting the heck out of there.” Lilah murmured. “Didn’t want to risk Wolfram and Hart beating Wesley there.”

 

_Yeah, good point._ I frowned. _Wait a minute, why are you helping us now? Don’t you want Wolfram and Hart to help you?_

 

“I used to. But that was before we had a decent plan to undo this, when Wolfram and Hart was my only option. And before I found out that Vengeance demon’s mojo is fogging up our mind readers. They might dissect us before they work out it’s actually me in here, especially with Gavin calling the shots. Sticking with your plan is the safe bet.”

 

That made sense. _Then what is the plan? Long-term, that is?_

 

“I’ll need to get in touch with Wesley.” Lilah whispered, then hesitated. “Only problem is… he won’t be able to tell it’s me.”

_Sure he will._ I raised an imaginary eyebrow. _There’s not many other people walking around with my voice._

 

“Yeah, but Wolfram and Hart’s shamans could fake a voice easily with magic.” Lilah pointed out. “Wesley can’t trust that. He’d have to assume they’re leading him into a trap.”

 

_Damn._ I sighed. _And I’m guessing you’re not willing to let me take over and let him do his Fred-detector mojo?_

 

Lilah shook her head. “Sorry. I kinda prefer being in control of my own fate. I’m sure you get that.”

_Yeah._ I conceded reluctantly. In her position, there’s no way I’d give over control. There was an easier way. _Why don’t I tell you something that only Wesley and I know? You can give that as proof that I’m still here helping you out! And that we’re cooperating._

 

“Good idea.” Lilah nodded. “What are you thinking?”

 

Hmm. What would be the best little tidbits to get Wesley to recognise it was me? 

 

_Tell him that… that it meant a lot to me that he kept track of me. That I was so happy when he read my article and understood it. That I’m still working on the problem with Pauli repulsion but I suspect the key has to do with Force Carriers. And tell him that I appreciate that he looked after me during the memory spell, and that he always put himself between me and Liam. And…_

 

_And tell him that if he’d asked to tag along… I’m not sure I would have said ‘no’._

 

“Thanks.” Lilah nodded. “That should be all I need.”

 

_Yeah._ I wished I could twiddle my thumbs or fidget. _I hope Wesley’s okay._

 

Lilah chuckled. “Trust me, the security guys are terrible. Wesley will go right through them.”

 

_I hope so._

 

“So, what’s your deal with Wesley anyway?” Lilah asked casually. “I thought you and Charles had always had the big puppy love.”

_It’s complicated._

“Speaking as a professional liar?” Lilah looked at her reflection in the window and it felt like she was staring right into my eyes. I shifted uncomfortably (or would have done if I had a body). “That’s something people say when they lie, or when they don’t want to face reality.” I stayed quiet.

 

“Fred,” Lilah sighed. “Look. You obviously haven’t been talking to anyone about this. Maybe you should try.”

I snorted. _The last person I opened up to about my personal life ended up fusing the two of us together through reality-bending magic. And unlike that person, I know for a_ fact _that you’re evil._

 

“Which means nobody would ever believe me if I told them.” Lilah shrugged. “It’s your call.”

 

She made a good point. And she was helping now. Had been for a while. No complaints, almost no mocking. Oh, to hell with it. Not like she could use the information against me.

 

_I don’t know what I want._ I said truthfully. W _ith Charles… it all changed so much. Not for the better. Being with him doesn’t make me smile any more. I just feel awkward. Trapped, even. He expects me to be all sweetness and light and… that’s not who I am. And then with Wesley… it’s so easy. Being around him. Talking and connecting. I’ve never not enjoyed being around him._

 

“And then, that kiss.” Lilah whistled softly. “Was not expecting that, let me tell you. Quite a kiss, huh?”

 

_Yeah._ If I could have blushed, I’m sure I would have. _That was… unlike anything._

 

“So, Fred, what do you choose?” Lilah asked with forced lightness. “The old, stale relationship that’s stopped making you happy… or the new, exciting, fulfilling opportunity?”

 

_You make it sound like it’s not much of a choice._

 

“Is it?” Lilah shrugged. “Wesley’s smarter. He clearly knows you better. Willing to do pretty much anything for you. He’s devilishly handsome. More of an obvious match for you… and the chemistry. Wow.”

 

Lilah’s words were coming uncomfortably close to what I’d been feeling and thinking the last few days. _I… I don’t want to talk about this any more._

“You don’t have to.” Lilah whispered, and her voice was softer and colder suddenly. “I think you’ve made up your mind. So have I.”

 

_Made up your mind about what?_ I asked.

 

The cab stopped and Lilah got out without answering me, walking into Wesley’s building. _Lilah, what do you mean?_ I asked, feeling myself start to panic. _Lilah, why are you ignoring me?_

 

But she kept on ignoring me. Lilah unlocked the door to Wesley’s apartment with the key he’d given me earlier today in case of an emergency and swept into the bedroom, recovering and changing into her outfit from earlier. She transferred the purse I’d been using out of the jacket pocket - slipping Wesley’s instructions into the purse for good measure - and into one hand, then left the apartment immediately.

 

_Aren’t you gonna call Wesley?_ I asked, a sinking feeling in my stomach. I had no idea what I’d done, but Lilah was acting strange. Stranger than normal. 

“All in good time.” Lilah said evenly, smiling slightly. “All in good time.” Lilah didn’t respond to a single one of my questions, my accusations, or anything I did. She just walked. By the time she stopped walking, we were in the park near the Hyperion, standing by a few payphones in the middle of an open space. The sun was setting.

 

Lilah calmly walked up to the nearest one and inserted the necessary change. Then she began dialling a number I quickly recognised as Wesley’s.

 

_Seriously?_ I demanded. _You were doing all this just to freak me out? You’re calling Wesley to get help with the spell anyway?_

 

Lilah paused before dialling the last number. She smiled wickedly. “You really do have to learn not to trust me.”

 

It rang only once before the other end picked up. “Hello?” Wesley! He was alright! He sounded exhausted and all, but that was to be expected. I hoped he was okay.

 

“Wesley!” Lilah managed a passable impression of my voice. “Are you alright? Did they hurt you?” Seriously? Impersonating me was never going to work. It hadn’t worked on Wesley earlier when he was off-guard and partially in the dark about the situation, it certainly wasn’t going to work now!

 

“Lilah.” Wesley sounded relieved. “You made it.”

“That’s not even the best part!” Lilah paused for a second. “It’s _me_ , Wes.”

“Lilah-”

“No, really! I ran away as fast as I could - I’m so sorry I couldn’t stay to help you - and I followed all the instructions you gave me! I summoned Cassandra and I bound her and I threatened to smash her pendant like you said if she didn’t undo her wish and she gave in right away, and I made her promise to stay away from me and you and all the rest of our friends too! We’re safe, again Wesley.” Lilah paused. “I’m _me_ again, Wesley. Thank you. Oh my God, I can say thank you again! Thank you, thank you, thank you! Thank you so much!”

 

“Lilah,” Wesley said wearily. _Told you he wouldn’t fall for it._ I said smugly. “Give it up.”

“I’m not Lilah, Wesley.” Lilah took a deep - clearly audible - breath and began to ramble. “I can prove it! It… it meant a _lot_ to me that you kept track of me, even after you had to leave. And I’m still working on the Pauli Repulsion part of my theorem, but I’m pretty sure it’s got something to do with Force Carriers!” 

 

_No! No! What are you doing? We’re not split up, you’re not asking Wesley for help,_ _what the hell are you doing? That wasn’t what I told you that stuff for!_

 

LIlah kept going. “And when we had our memories wiped, I really appreciated that you looked after me, and that you always put yourself between Liam and me!” Lilah paused, then said quietly. “And if…if you had asked. To tag along. I’m not sure I would have said ‘no’.” Lilah held her breath, waiting for Wesley’s response.

 

“Fred?” He said softly. NO! I wanted to scream. It wasn’t me! I felt like Lilah had kicked me in the gut. She’d manipulated me. I’d been stupid, _stupid_ to listen to her! And now she’d tricked Wesley into… I wasn’t sure. But I had a really bad feeling about it. “How are you?”

“Peachy.” Lilah smiled. “I had the demon recorporealise Lilah back at her apartment. She’s gonna be fine too. And apart from some residual yucky lawyer vibes… I’m all back to normal. Thanks.”

“I’m glad I could be of service.” Wesley responded.

“So you haven’t said if you’re alright yet and I’m kinda startin’ to worry…” Lilah said slowly.

“I’m fine, Fred.” Wesley chuckled. “Wolfram and Hart need better security. Is that why you called? To check up on me?”

 

“Kinda.” Lilah faked hesitation. “I mean. I partially called to make sure you were alright and I partially called to say ‘thank you’ because I’m gonna need to keep on saying that for the next couple of years at least and wanted to start early, but I also called… because I’ve been thinking. About us. About what happened.” Lilah swallowed. “A lot.”

“You mean…” Wesley sounded so hesitant, so unsure. “… our kiss?”

“Yeah.” Lilah took another audible deep breath. “Wesley… we need to talk.”

“Fred,” Wesley’s voice was soft. Quiet. Resigned. “You… made yourself clear. Don’t worry. There’s nothing you need to tell me.”

 

Lilah waited for a second, then whispered into the receiver, sounding incredibly nervous. “Maybe there is.” Wait, what? _Lilah, what are you doing?_ I hissed. I had no idea what she was playing at, but I didn’t like it. Because when Wesley got here, he’d _surely_ be able to tell the difference. It was just the long-distance phone call and the stolen secrets that had shorted out his radar. As soon as he got here and talked to her - if he came - he’d know. No way he couldn’t tell us apart once he got up close. And Lilah would be exposed.

 

“Where do you need me to go?” Wesley asked, and I could hear such naked _hope_ in his voice that it made me want to cry because I was sure that Lilah was planning something awful for him.

“You remember the park near the Hyperion?” Lilah asked.

“Where we used to get ice cream?” Wesley questioned in response and I felt a surge of hope. We’d never got ice cream here. Never. We’d got it at parlours and other parks, never here. Lilah was going to blunder because he still suspected, because he’d laid a trap, because he knew something was off and he was going to-

“No, Wesley.” Lilah laughed. “You know full well the park I’m talking about doesn’t do ice cream.” 

 

My hopes were dashed again.

 

“Sorry.” Wesley sounded sheepish. “When I hear something that’s too good to be true… I have to be sure.”

“That’s alright.” Lilah paused, then asked shyly. “You think I’m too good to be true?”

“Much too good.” Wesley whispered and I whimpered. That was so sweet.

“How soon can you be there?” Lilah asked.

“Fifteen minutes. I’m halfway across the city.” 

“Just don’t keep me waiting.” Lilah paused. “You know how I get cold.”

“I’m already sprinting.”

“I’ll see you soon.” Lilah giggled. “And Wesley?”

“Yes?”

“You might want to bring flowers.” And before I could hear Wesley’s reaction, Lilah hung up the phone.

 

_Lilah._ I whispered. _Whatever you’re planning, please don’t do it. Please. Please. I’ve never done anything to you! Please don’t do this to him. Please, he doesn’t deserve it._

 

“We so rarely get what we deserve.” Lilah said quietly. Then she inserted another lot of change into the phone and entered another number I recognised. Cold dread pulsed through me, and I watched helplessly as she finished dialling the number and held up the receiver. _Please don’t._ I asked, without any faith that she’d listen.

 

“Hey Charles.” Lilah spoke softly.

“Fred!” Charles gasped and his voice was so full of relief, so happy that it made my stomach twist. I felt so impossibly guilty (which was silly because I’d just needed some space, I hadn’t meant to end up in this mess), and so angry at Lilah, and so worried about what she was going to do. “What happened? Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, don’t worry.” Lilah said soothingly. “I’m alright.”

“I was so worried.” Charles murmured. “You didn’t call. I’ve been out searching for you.”

“Hitting up the taco stands and diners?” Lilah joked weakly.

Charles laughed happily. “Something like that, yeah.” Then a pause and his voice was quieter. “You didn’t call.”

“I”m sorry.” Lilah whispered and it sounded genuine. “I just… I had to think. I… can we talk? In person.”

“Of course! Where are you?” 

“The park near the hotel with the pay-phones. You know the one?”

“Of course. I’ll be there in ten minutes.” He sounded worried. A pause. “You’re sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah.” Lilah smiled. “For the first time in a while. See you soon.” Lilah hung up.

 

_What the hell are you playing at?_ I demanded. _What’s your game?_

 

“You’ll see.” Lilah said calmly. Then, without any warning, she started rubbing our eyes. Hard. It was a very unpleasant sensation, and by the time she was done our eyes felt raw and wet… was she trying to make it look like I’d been _crying?_

 

_Charles never did anything to you!_ I pleaded. _There’s still time to leave! Whatever you’re planning, please don’t do it! Please!_ Lilah declined to respond. She sat on the grass, pulled her legs up to her chest and wrapped her arms around herself, leaning against the payphone. And she waited. So I had to wait too.

 

“Fred!” Charles was sprinting along the nearest path, making straight for us. There was a determined look in his eyes and he was nearly out of breath.

 

“Charles!” Lilah stumbled to her feet awkwardly, wiped her eyes one last time and took a few hesitant steps towards him. I suppose whatever she was planning, it was about to play out. I had a really bad feeling about this. 

 

But that was silly. 

 

This was going to be okay, because all Charles had to do was recognise that it wasn’t me and we’d be fine. Charles, please recognise that it’s not me! Please just see through her. If Wesley could do it, then Charles could recognise it wasn’t me! I’d barely seen Wesley for months, and Charles… obviously he’d realise she wasn’t really me, there was no way he wouldn’t.

 

“You’re okay!” Charles looked Lilah over and smiled in pure relief. “Thank God you’re okay.”

“I told you I was.” Lilah said shyly, biting her lip. She took a deep breath. “Charles, I-”

“Please don’t do this.” Charles whispered, stepping closer to us. 

“Do what?” Lilah asked. 

Charles reached out slowly and Lilah took his hand, covering it with both of hers. “Leave me.”

 

Oh God. _This_ was her plan. Lure Charles here, ask to talk and then stomp on his heart! Do as much as she could to hurt him. She was a monster. _Lilah, please don’t-_

 

“I… I feel more for you than I’ve ever felt for anyone!” Charles was frantic, nearly tripping over his words in his haste. “Please, just think about this! I know it’s been tough and I know I’ve made mistakes, but please, just-”

 

“I’m sorry.” Lilah said very clearly, staring up into Charles’ eyes.

Charles trailed off and swallowed. “For what?” He asked quietly. “Leaving me?”

“No. For… for…” Lilah swallowed and spoke rapidly, rambling. “You were right, Charles! You were right and I’m so, so _sorry!_ I almost ruined everything! I… I was just so mad at Seidel, because of him, so I tried to do everything alone and I shouldn’t have because we’re together, because we do _everything_ together and I betrayed that!” Lilah paused for breath. 

 

“Fred,” Charles whispered. “You don’t-” My heart sank. He hadn’t seen through her. He hadn’t seen that she wasn’t me.

“Please let me talk!” Lilah pleaded. “I… I have so much I want to say. Please!” _What are you doing?_ I demanded.

“Go ahead.” Charles said quietly.

“You were right for trying to help me!” Lilah continued. “Your heart was in the right place, I was just so angry because I wanted to do it alone but… but I’m not alone. I was just… I was just alone for _so long_ that I forgot I had someone else to help me!” And Lilah started crying then, a few stray tears crawling down her cheeks. Lilah sniffled and drew a deep breath. Charles tenderly wiped the tears off her cheeks and pulled Lilah into a hug. 

“It’s okay, Fred.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of Lilah’s head. “It’s alright. I’m here. You don’t have to be sorry.” Oh God, he was comforting _her_. Was _this_ what she wanted? What was the catch?

 

“Yes I do. I am.” Lilah looked up into Charles’ eyes. “Everything’s been so strained and awful between us for weeks. It’s my fault… we’re not happy anymore. That we’re alone, even when we’re together, instead of together even when we’re apart! I… I’m so lonely without you Charles. And this past day I… I’ve missed you so, so much. I’m sorry I ran off, but I had to think…”

“I missed you too.” Charles squeezed Lilah reassuringly. “It’s okay that you needed to think, that’s what you do, you’re the thinker.”

“Well, the more I thought, the faster I thought and I just… I kept coming to the same conclusion no matter which way I thought about it.” Lilah paused and swallowed, then pressed herself tighter against Charles. “We used to be so happy. You made me so happy and I… I want to be happy again. More than anything. I want to forget that any of this ever happened… would you do that? With me? For me?”

“Of course, Fred.” Lilah smiled so widely at what Charles said I thought she was going to split my face in two. “How do you think we were before?”

“We were madly in love.” Lilah whispered, and reached up to stroke Charles’ face. “Weren’t we?”

“Yes.” Charles smiled and he looked happier than I’d ever seen him. It made me feel sick. What was Lilah doing? “Of course I love you, Fred.” 

“I love you too!” Lilah almost shouted, then pulled him down into a kiss. 

 

She kissed him eagerly, passionately, desperately.

 

And he kissed her back.

 

I couldn’t move. Couldn’t fight it. Couldn’t cry out. I tried. I knew it was pointless but I tried so _hard_ , I threw all my might into desperate attempts to move, to break away, to stop Lilah from doing this. I failed. I pleaded with the universe, I prayed that Charles would realise that something was wrong, that this wasn’t me, that it wasn’t how I spoke to him, or how I felt about what had happened, that this wasn’t how I _kissed_ him. But he didn’t realise.

 

_Lilah, please don’t! Please, please stop!_ I screamed at her once she’d gently pulled away from Charles. She ignored me.

 

“I missed this.” Lilah whispered, then stood on tiptoes to put her mouth next to Charles’ ear. “I missed _you._ ” She gently wrapped her arms around him and pulled him into a tight embrace.

“I missed you too.” Charles choked. “So much.”

“I’m here now.” Lilah whispered, gently caressing his face. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“You have no idea how glad I am to hear that.” Charles hugged Lilah tighter and looked at her adoringly, lovingly. “I love you.” I curled in on myself. I felt numb. Almost too numb to feel betrayed.

 

Lilah pulled him into another kiss. A long, languid lazy kiss that I endured powerlessly, hating the sensations racing through me, the noises Lilah made with my body, how she used my hands and rocked against Charles passionately. I hated that she was doing this. I hated that Charles didn’t recognise she was doing it. And I still had no idea _why_ Lilah was doing this. _Please just stop._ I begged her. _Please stop. What do you want? Why are you doing this?_

 

“So,” Charles was panting, out of breath. He pulled Lilah into an even tighter hug and she hummed happily, snuggling up against his chest as he gently stroked her sides. “How do you feel about going out for dinner?”

Lilah shook her head and Charles’ brow furrowed. “I didn’t miss our dinner dates, Charles.” Lilah spoke breathily and planted a swift kiss on his lips. “I missed you _._ So much. _Desperately.”_

 

Then Lilah leapt into the air and wrapped her legs around Charles’ waist, kissing him furiously. Charles stumbled back against the payphone with a noise of surprise as he cradled Lilah against him. No. Surely she wasn’t. Lilah wouldn’t. She wasn’t…

 

She wasn’t going to make love. She wouldn’t. She wasn’t that evil. She wouldn’t force me to… to watch helplessly. To feel everything, be held captive like this while she… with Charles… she wouldn’t. She wouldn’t do that. Nobody was that evil! And there was no way she could keep this up much longer anyway, it was only a matter of seconds before Charles realised something was off, that it wasn’t me. He would. Any second now.

 

Any second now.

 

Lilah’s hands were running beneath Charles’ shirt now, tenderly stroking and caressing his chest. She was pressed impossibly close against him, standing on her own two feet again to better pin him against the pay-phone, kissing him greedily. And he was being just as passionate.

 

Oh God. Oh God, why?

 

“Back to the hotel?” Charles growled after the kiss. Lilah shook her head and kissed Charles’ neck roughly, eliciting a moan from him. “Then what do you want?”

“Anywhere else.” Lilah purred. “Another hotel. Another motel. Not the Hyperion.”

“Why not?” Charles frowned.

“It’s been so _long_.” Lilah said plaintively, then looked up at him and smiled wickedly. “I want to be very, _very_ loud.” Charles surged down to kiss her again, and I could only watch helplessly, horrified, as they began to stumble out of the park, hands clasped, stopping every few dozen steps to kiss again, hands roaming all the while.

 

At the second such stop, Lilah glanced down as she crunched something underfoot. A bouquet of flowers. My heart soared: Wesley! I‘d almost forgotten he was coming! Thank God for Wesley!!! He’d be here any second! He’d show up and he’d tell Charles what was happening, he’d stop Lilah, he’d…

 

I felt Lilah’s smile widen. Why was she-

 

No…

 

No.

 

_NO!!!_

 

Because Lilah had asked Wesley to bring flowers. And implied with no room for misinterpretation the kind of talk they were going to have. Convinced him absolutely that she was me. And he would have arrived, so excited and so happy…

 

And he would have seen ‘me’. Kissing Charles passionately, desperately. He would have known, believed it was me because he’d already been convinced. He wouldn’t stop Lilah. He’d already been here. Seen what was happening. The bouquet must have slipped from his fingers onto the ground here. And he’d left. Hadn’t been angry or confronted her. Just taken it as an unambiguous, utterly clear, brutal message. Wesley was gone.

 

He wasn’t coming to help me.

 

Nobody was.

 

_Please._ I begged as Lilah left the park.

 

_Please don’t!_ I screamed, as Charles checked into the hotel, Lilah kissing and nibbling at his ear the whole time.

 

_PLEASE!_ I cried helplessly as Lilah shut and locked the door behind her. _PLEASE STOP!_

 

Lilah pushed Charles onto the bed and smiled seductively. She didn’t stop. Neither did he.

 

Not all night.

 

 

\+ + + + + + +

 

As Lilah woke up, so did I. I didn’t feel groggy or sleepy, although from the sounds of it Lilah did. I just felt empty. Alone. Betrayed. I felt Lilah squeeze herself closer up against Charles, who murmured something in his sleep in response and automatically wrapped his arms around her tighter.

 

I wished I could cry. Or scream. Or run. Or do _anything_. This was as bad as Pylea. Maybe worse. This was awful and wrong. Lilah had…

 

Lilah had taken everything from me. Ruined my life. And everyone else had just let her. With a smile and a handshake.

 

“Good morning.” Lilah whispered into one closed fist. I imagined it was so Charles couldn’t hear her. “Sleep well?” I didn’t respond. I wasn’t sure that I could. That I could muster up the will to speak, to converse with this monster. And I definitely didn’t want to.

 

“Not gonna talk then,” Lilah grinned. “Fine by me. I get to cuddle some more. I must say… I had no idea you were such a little powerhouse.” She shivered. I didn’t want to think about it. To remember the things Lilah had done, had delighted in doing, over and over and over as I watched powerlessly, heard every sound, _felt_ every motion and sensation…

 

Lilah closed her eyes again and I was plunged into darkness. Darkness was better. Darkness was better than seeing this awful room, this awful place, this awful bed… than seeing him. He hadn’t seen that anything was wrong. Not even once. Not even for a moment. 

 

Darkness was better.

 

I felt someone kiss Lilah. She smiled and her eyes fluttered open. “Hey, you.” Lilah kept grinning.

“Hey, you.” Charles stroked her face gently and kissed her more deeply. She reciprocated enthusiastically. “How’d you sleep?”

“Quite well. But not for very long.” Lilah sat up, stretching her arms overhead. Charles eyed her appreciatively and Lilah giggled, swatting at him and tugging the duvet closer. Like she cared about protecting my modesty.

 

Like I had any left.

 

“You kept your promise.” 

“Which one?” Lilah leaned in to rub her nose against his.

“You were very loud.” He grinned and Lilah smiled unabashedly. “What a little rocket you are.” 

Lilah laughed and kissed him. “Speaking of… I wanted to try out a few new things. What did you think? About last night?”

“You were incredible.” Charles breathed. “Better than ever before.” I wanted to cry.

 

“What say we get out of here?” He lifted up Lilah’s hand and kissed it. “I want to have breakfasttogether again. All your favourite foods. You must be famished.”

Lilah’s stomach rumbled as if on cue. She sighed and sat up in bed. “I have an errand to run. An important one. How does brunch sound?”

“Swell. Where are we going?” Charles sat up too. 

“This is a solo errand.” Lilah gently pushed him back down on the mattress and smiled. “It’s going to be a surprise for you.”

“I love surprises.” Charles smiled. “Is it a good one?”

“It’ll be killer.” Lilah grinned, pressing a swift kiss to his cheek as she made to get out of bed.

Charles grabbed her waist and pulled her back onto the duvet. He pressed a kiss to the back of her neck. “Promise me you won’t vanish again.”

“I promise.” Lilah turned around and kissed him.

“I love you.” Charles cupped her face with both hands and kissed her furiously. “More than I’ve ever loved anyone.”

“I love you too, Charles.” Lilah whispered and kissed him softly. She padded out of bed, and slipped on her underwear, then her skirt. Lilah frowned.

 

And screamed. She collapsed onto the floor, thrashing and I felt the all-too-familiar pain burning into every part of me. No. Not now. Not here. Lilah screamed and thrashed and I felt like I was being incinerated, then stretched out on a torture rack. 

 

“Fred!” I felt Charles’ hands cradling Lilah as her eyes opened. “Fred, what is it? What can I do?” 

Lilah let out a cruel laugh, before she was cut off by another scream. “You… stupid son of a bitch.” She laughed. Charles blinked. She laughed again. And with one last horrible, gut-twisting stab of pain, I breathed. 

 

I was back. In control. In Lilah’s body.

 

Charles recoiled, letting go of me. I thudded to the floor, head banging _hard_ into the wood and sending stabbing pain into me. “Lilah?” Charles choked. I couldn’t look away from him as his face shifted to horror, then to rage. “What the hell-”

 

I burst into tears. I couldn’t stop them. I seized my shirt and struggled to pull it on properly, turning away to hide my face from him. I snatched up my purse and stumbled towards the door, desperate to get out. An arm blocked my way. I stared at my feet. “Get out of my way.” I said quietly. I couldn’t muster anything louder.

 

“What the hell have you done?” Charles growled. “Answer me, Lilah. Or I swear to God-”

“LET ME GO, CHARLES!” I screamed at him, glaring right into his eyes. He blinked. 

Then his mouth dropped open. “Fred?” He said disbelievingly. “Then who-” 

 

He stiffened. “No.” He said quietly. I nodded. “Fred, I didn’t-” I ducked under his arm and started walking as fast as I could.

 

He caught my arm. “Fred, I-”

“DON’T TOUCH ME!” I screamed, jerking away from him, abject _horror_ bubbling up within me. “ _NEVER_ _TOUCH ME!_ ” And then I ran. I didn’t look back. I ran out of the building. I ran as far as I could. I didn’t know where. I didn’t care where.

 

I came to a stop on a corner somewhere, gasping for air. I braced myself against the wall and swallowed several times. “How could you?” I asked quietly.

 

_Didn’t you enjoy it?_ Lilah chuckled. _I certainly did, and you weren’t even having to do any of the work. You could have just sat back and enjoyed it. And what’s more, I fixed your relationship with your boyfriend. I was doing you a favour. Until you went and screwed it up at the last second._

 

“You’re…” I struggled for words. “You’re scum. You’re soulless. I wish that you…” I caught myself, a flash of fear burning through me. A wish had caught me out once.

 

_What do you wish?_ Lilah sneered. _C’mon, what do I deserve?_

 

“You deserve to be stuck in Pylea.” I said quietly.

 

Lilah laughed. _Well, hate to break it to you Fred, but I have places to go and someone to see. And we both know you don’t want to be sharing this body with me, so why don’t you get over yourself, whip out that piece of paper and fix this mess? That’s what I was about to do before you took over._

 

_Wait, how did you take over? What did I do?_

 

The instructions. I could free myself from Lilah. I opened the purse and fumbled around blindly, removing the piece of paper and the bag of binding dust. Hands shaking, I unfolded the paper. I tried to read it but I couldn’t focus. The words seemed meaningless. I couldn’t process it. I wasn’t up to this. Not now. I couldn’t. I just needed…

 

I sat down heavily on the floor and sobbed quietly into closed hands. “You’ve destroyed my whole life.” I accused Lilah. “Sullied my friendships, poisoned my relationship with Charles, and with my _closest friend_ , you…” I couldn’t keep talking. I knew what I needed. I unsteadily rose to my feet and started walking. I wrapped my arms around my sides as I walked, trying to cover myself as much as I could because this shirt was stupidly tight and small for me now and I didn’t want to deal with any leering, awful people. Usually walking helped clear my head. This time it didn’t. I felt just as numb and blank and awful at the end of the walk as I did at the start. But at least I’d got here. I knocked on the door.

 

No response. I pressed my ear to the wood: I couldn’t hear anyone moving in there. That didn’t bode well. Especially since I didn’t have anywhere else to go.

 

I knocked again. And again. My heart skipped a beat when I heard the dull scrape of wood against the floor inside. A series of thuds. Heavy, slow footsteps. The door was torn open viciously and I stumbled away from it in shock, looking up at Wesley.

 

His eyes looked almost black, they were so dark. Dark and utterly empty. He was near hunched over and gripping a bottle of scotch in one hand so tightly his knuckles were white as bone. Leaning against the doorframe, slouching… he looked completely apathetic. Past him, inside the apartment, I saw his table covered in a forest of empty glass bottles.

 

“Lilah.” Wesley spat the name like it was poison. He lifted the bottle to his lips and sipped idly. “Came here to make my day perfect, did you?”

Oh God. Oh God, what had Lilah done to him? I’d seen him after he’d had his throat cut and this…

 

He looked _worse._ Somehow. I felt like a knife was being twisted deep into my own guts.

 

“Wesley, I-”

“Stop.” Wesley growled, cutting me off and for a second his eyes flashed with fire, with rage. “Stop pretending to be Fred.”

“Wesley, no! She-”

_“No._ ” Wesley spat and the words died on my lips at the venom in his voice. “No. Excellent work Lilah, really some of your finest. Using the knock she used yesterday morning, her knock, and mimicking her exact tone of voice. But I already know you two have been split, so if you could kindly-”  
“We haven’t been, Wes, she-”

“ _Enough_.” Wesley’s eyes met mine for the first time and they were terrifying. Utterly devoid of any emotion. Devoid even of anger. “You coming here, impersonating her to manipulate me? You make me sick. You’re a sorry, empty excuse for a human being, and _I want you to leave and never come back!”_

I couldn’t help but tremble under the weight of the onslaught. I was shaking like a leaf and that all too familiar wetness was creeping into my eyes. “Please, Wesley, I…” It was too much. 

 

My whole life was in ruins around me.

 

I’d made a stupid wish to a stranger and landed myself in a horrible mess.

 

I was stuck in the body of the woman I now hated more than anything else in the universe.

 

My friends hadn’t recognised that anything was wrong with me when someone who was my antithesis impersonated and mocked me.

 

I’d dragged Wesley into trouble and almost got him killed.

 

I’d given Lilah crucial information that she’d used against me because I’d trusted her, like an idiot.

 

Charles hadn’t seen that there was anything wrong with me, hadn’t suspected, hadn’t even… he just hadn’t.

 

Lilah had used me like a puppet, forced me to stomp on Wesley’s heart in the cruellest, most visceral way possible and shattered it into a thousand pieces.

 

I’d been through hell and I was tired, numb, lost, and alone and… and _Wesley_ was attacking me. He’d finally lost his ability to see me. And even if he could see me, his instinctual response would be to hate me. Lilah had poisoned him against me. Forever. Even if he knew who I was, he’d probably slam the door in my face.

 

I was crying again, eyes shut, great heaving sobs wracking my chest as tears poured down my cheeks. I hated myself for crying, I shouldn’t cry because I was strong, I was capable, I was _not_ a damsel in distress but what happened with Charles had just been so _awful_ that I couldn’t hold back the flood and… and…

 

I needed help. I needed this. I needed _Wesley_.

 

“Tears?” I heard Wesley take another swig from the bottle, and his utterly casual, completely dismissive attitude sent daggers of blinding pain into my chest. Because he’d always cared about me and now… now he couldn’t care less. He wouldn’t care even if he knew who I was. Why would he? “Really? That’s your ploy? How uninspired. Goodbye.”

 

I heard the door swinging shut and I wasn’t going to let this happen, couldn’t let it happen so I stumbled forwards into the door, just about holding it open. Wesley glared at me through the crack in the door as I blinked my eyes open. “Move.”

 

I swallowed and I looked directly into his eyes, trying to get him to look at me, to see me in my eyes. “Wesley, _please!_ ” I pleaded. “It’s me!” His expression didn’t flicker as he deliberately slammed the door shut. I staggered backwards and collapsed onto my knees, shaking. I stared at the floor in front of me. No.

 

No. No.This couldn’t be happening. 

 

I couldn’t be alone.

 

Not again.

 

I heard the door swing open, heard it bounce against the inside wall of Wesley’s apartment and saw him bursting through it, falling to one knee, hand moving under my chin, tilting it up towards him and Wesley’s eyes weren’t empty anymore, there was a spark in them, just a _spark_ , of pure focus and determination. Hie eyes bored into my own, scrutinising, searching and I held his gaze, pleading for a miracle.

 

Five seconds.

 

Ten.

 

“I’m so sorry.” Wesley whispered and crumpled onto the floor, bracing himself on his hands and knees and he was crying but I was crying too so I pulled him into my arms and squeezed him as tight as I possibly could and he did the same to me and I cried tears of relief at the feeling of his warmth against me.

 

_NO!_ I heard Lilah scream but I was paying her no attention.

 

“Fred, _I’m so sorry_ ,” Wesley whimpered. “You were out here and… and something was wrong and you needed me and I… I said the most awful, horrible… I slammed the door in your face and-”

“Shut up.” I swallowed. “Please shut up.” And I clung to him like he was a rock and I was in a hurricane.

 

And then Wesley was gently leading me backwards, not relinquishing his hold even a little bit as he slowly drew me into his apartment. I kicked the door shut behind me and let him slowly lead me over to the sofa. I collapsed onto it, curling up there and burrowing into Wesley’s side, still - against all reason - crying warm tears onto him.

 

“You’ll be alright.” Wesley choked out, gently stroking the top of my head. “Whatever’s happened I can… we can fix this. Just talk to me Fred, what did… what did she do?”

“We can’t fix it!” I almost screamed, awful memories rushing in again at the thought of all the things Lilah had done. “Nobody can fix it, nothing can fix it, it happened, it’s forever!”

“Yes, we can.” Wesley whispered soothingly. “Yes we can. Just tell me what she did.”  
“You saw.” I whispered, keeping my eyes shut. “You saw what she did, she wanted you to see it or at least she wanted you to see the start of it because there was more! There was more and _it was too much and I remember all of it and I don’t want to!”_

“Wait.” Wesley’s voice was quiet. Horrified. “If you’re Fred… but you still look like Lilah… then the woman who looked like you that Gunn was… you mean… that was _Lilah?”_

I nodded helplessly. “He couldn’t tell, Wesley.” I choked. “He couldn’t tell. He was… he was just so happy, he never even suspected anything! Not even a doubt! He didn’t see anything! Even when he… when she… when they made…” I couldn’t keep going. I cried helplessly into Wesley’s chest.

 

“Oh God.” He said quietly. Appalled. “Oh God, Fred, I… I’m so… I can’t even begin to express how… I’m so sorry.”

“She wanted you to suffer too.” I swallowed. “She… she called you and she said those things and made sure you would be there to see when she…” I stopped talking. It was all too painful.

 

Wesley just rocked me gently in his arms, squeezing me tightly. “That doesn’t matter.” He whispered soothingly. “None of that matters. None of it. What matters is you. This is not your fault.”

“It is!” I pulled away slightly and glared at Wesley. “This is my fault! She asked me to tell her things she could use to convince you I approved of her actions! So that if you questioned her when she said she was gonna be asking for help, she could prove I was still on her side! And I told her because I was stupid and I was worried about you and distracted and believed her and she used that to hurt you! She hurt you so badly!” 

 

I looked at the apartment: the countless empty bottles on the table, the partially full bottle of scotch abandoned on the floor by the front door, remembered the haggard, defeated look in his eyes when I’d first seen him, how broken and in pain he’d been. “I helped her hurt you.”

“No you didn’t.” Wesley choked. “I know you’d never hurt me, Fred.”  
“I _did_ hurt you!” I screamed, glaring at him. “Why don’t you hate me? Why can’t you just hate me! Why don’t you hate me!” I was crying again, face buried in his chest.

 

“I…” Wesley’s voice was so choked and so full of pain. “I could _never_ hate you, Fred. Please, you have to know that. I could never… never ever hate you. This isn’t your fault.”

“Didn’t you hate me a few hours ago?” I demanded and I had no idea why I was acting like this, why I was so angry. “When you thought I’d taken your heart and shattered it into a million pieces? You must have hated me then, look what it did to you!” I gestured at the apartment.

“I didn’t hate you.” Wesley whispered. “I promise I didn’t, I couldn’t, I just… I hated myself for driving you to take such drastic measures to rid yourself of… of such a pernicious suitor.”

“Stop.” I sobbed. “Stop! Stop caring! Stop caring so much! _I forbid you to care about me!”_

“You can’t make me.” Wesley whispered. “Nothing can.”

 

I lifted my head off his chest and stared at him. At the tear tracks on his face. The flush in his cheeks. The messy strands of hair that had fallen out of place during what had clearly been a sleepless night. The bags under his eyes. At how soft and deep and raw and pained and longing and loving his eyes were. I swallowed and took a deep breath. I reached up, arms trembling and gently pushed the loose strands of hair out of my face. I leaned in-

 

And Wesley’s hands caught my shoulders, holding me back, my lips bare inches from his. “Fred,” Wesley swallowed. “You-”

“I’m sorry.” I choked, casting my eyes downwards, cheeks burning. What had I been thinking?Of course he wouldn’t want… not any more. Not after… “I’m… I just… I know that after what I’ve done and how repulsive I… all I’ve put you through and of course you… you don’t want to, how could you want to-”

“No! I… I want to kiss you more than anything.” Wesley promised, voice raw.

“Then,” I looked at his hands, hopelessly confused. “Then why?”

Wesley swallowed. “You… this is the lowest point in your life, Fred. Everything has been torn down around you and I can’t… I won’t take advantage of that. Of you. I don’t want you to kiss me now because you’re alone and you want comfort or because you feel guilty or because you’re angry at Gunn. You’ll just feel so much worse and… and if you did it would screw up your relationship and I can’t…” 

 

Wesley drew a shuddering breath and looked at me. “I’m still a good man.” He whispered, voice raw. 

 

“I know.” I choked. I swallowed and looked at him disbelievingly. It couldn’t be true, but I knew it was. I asked anyway. “You… you really just want me to be happy, don’t you?”

“Yes.” His voice was ragged.

“I want to kiss _you._ ” I spoke as clearly as I could, hating the fearful tremble in my voice because I was so sure about this, was surer about Wesley than I’d ever been about anything. “You’re… you’re the one who knows me best. It feels like you’re the only one who knows me at all and… and I know how you feel and… and I know how I feel and… please kiss me.”

 

Wesley nodded and he shifted his grip on my shoulders so that instead of holding me back, he was pulling me closer. I leaned in—

 

_WE SLEPT TOGETHER!_ Lilah’s voice rang out in the back of my head and I started at the sound, drawing back on reflex. What was she— _Wesley and I. Every damn day and every night too. For months. We were in a relationship!_

 

No, that… that didn’t make any… Lilah and him, that just couldn’t… 

 

Lilah had known. In that alley, before she lost control. Just what buttons to push to hurt him. And when I’d lost control outside of Wolfram and Hart, the last thing I’d said before the pain had started to build up…

 

I’d said that Lilah didn’t give a damn about Wesley. And Lilah _hated_ me, I mean she was evil but even so, it was like… like it was personal, like I’d done something to her. Or taken something from her. It all made too much sense. Except for the part where he… why would he ever…

 

“Wes, is it…” I was still so very close to him. His hands had left my shoulders at some point when I’d been lost in thought, but we were still so close. His eyes lingered on mine, somewhere between confused and concerned. “What Lilah just told me… did you really… with her?” Wesley would never lie to me.

 

Wesley’s whole body sagged back against the sofa. “Yes.” He said softly, voice ragged. 

 

No. No. But…

 

That just… I couldn’t… why would Wesley do that? He was strong, smart, brave, courageous, kind, sweet, sensitive, funny… he was a _good_ man. Why would he… with someone he knew was evil? Beyond any doubt. Why would Wesley do that to himself? He… he was better than her. He deserved better than her.

 

“Wes…” And I didn’t mean to frown but it slipped onto my face. “Why… why did you do it?”

 

“I was alone.” His voice was barely more than a harrowed whisper. “Completely. I… full of self-loathing and… and I just couldn’t bear to be alone anymore. Even if she was… she was someone. I never meant for it to go on but… but…”

 

“But you were so alone.” I swallowed. And the words came tumbling out, without my thinking through them, without my consent. “And so lonely. Nobody had understood what you’d done, why you’d done it, why you’d done it alone. Your friends, they… _we_ couldn’t accept that you’d done what you thought was right, made what you still think was the right call… You were isolated, hurting, grieving for what you lost and… and she kept turning up. Even if you wouldn’t have sought her out… once she was there you couldn’t bear to send her away?”

 

Wesley nodded ever so slightly, eyes fixed on the floor in front of him. He looked so… he wasn’t looking at me.

 

“You’re not like her.” I shook my head firmly. “If you were like her… she took advantage of you when you needed someone. If you were like her then… then you wouldn’t have offered me the chance to stop just now. Before she talked. Or you could have denied what she said and I would have believed you, you know I would have. Wesley… _Wes_ , please look at me?” I kept my voice soft. Insistent. But mostly soft.

 

Wesley swallowed. Wesley slowly turned his head to look at me. He made eye contact tentatively for a moment, then looked away. I waited a moment. He made eye contact. This time he held it, though it looked like it it took him all the effort in the world.

 

I leaned in and reached up with one hand to cup his cheek. “I understand.” I spoke softly but clearly, smiling at him. 

 

_No. No, you don’t. You can’t!_ Lilah was talking faster than I’d ever heard her talk. _You’re sweetness and light! You can’t understand darkness, you can’t understand what it’s like to be alone, you can’t empathise with him! You’re not meant to forgive him, you’re not-_

 

I closed my eyes and closed all the remaining distance between Wesley and I. 

 

I pressed my mouth to his, hugged him tighter and relaxed into him. This kiss wasn’t as passionate as yesterday’s - which felt like a lifetime ago - but it was so much more soft. So sweet. So gentle. Wesley was unbelievably, impossibly tender, loving, affectionate and he was _there,_ he was my rock and when the first kiss was done I came up for air, breathed in as much oxygen as I could in one go and then I kissed him again. Over and over and over. I’d no idea for how long. He was addictive. And that awful numbing cold was slowly being driven away, replaced by a wonderful comforting warmth. The warmth of his lips against mine, of his heartbeat, of his arms around me but also a deeper warmth, gently curling out from inside of me. Warmth seeped back through my limbs slowly and I felt safe, warm, comfortable, comforted, cared for… 

 

I felt _loved_. It meant the world to me.

 

I slowly pulled away from the latest kiss and wiped the last remaining tear residue off my face. Then I raised one finger and did the same for Wesley. I drew a deep breath and collected my thoughts. Something important I had to tell him. “I _swear_ you’ll never have to be alone. I’ll always be there for you.”

“Fred…” Wesley whispered, and when he smiled it was the most perfect thing I’d ever seen. He wrapped his arms around me and hugged me close. I hugged him back as tightly as I could, closing my eyes and burrowing into him. Wesley whispered in my ear. “You’ll never have to be alone either. Not if you don’t want to be.”

“I never was alone. Not really. Not since I got back.” I squeezed him. “I was just stupid and thought I was. You… you would always have been there if I asked you.”

“Of course.” Wesley murmured, rubbing soft, gentle, intimate circles on my back.

“And if you have any other dark secrets, now is definitely the time to tell me, because you’ll never _ever_ catch me in a better mood.”

 

Wesley burst out laughing, his whole body shaking, and I laughed with him, giggling on the sofa, never letting go of him. I pulled back slightly. “For reals though?” I raised an eyebrow playfully.

“No secrets.” Wesley’s face was deadly serious. “For reals.”

I withdrew one arm and put a finger on the middle of his chest. “Cross your heart?” I said quietly.

“Cross my heart.” Wesley nodded.

 

I smiled and drew an X over his heart. X marks the spot. That made sense. Wesley’s heart was definitely a thing to treasure. But I’d never make a map to it. I’d hold it close and tight, and never let go.

“No deep dark secrets here either.” I paused, then smiled and shoved him playfully. “Don’t even think about crossing my heart right now.”

“No need.” Wesley lifted my hand to his mouth and pressed a gentle kiss to the back of my hand.

“Although I do have a long laundry list of embarrassing and irritating habits…” I smiled.

“Oh?” Wesley’s eyes gleamed.

 

“I’m an early riser, I talk in my sleep, I hog the duvet, I never remember to put things back in the fridge, I am _not_ to be trusted with a shopping list, you are always going to be reaching for things on high shelves for me, and you might as well rename yourself ‘official jar-opener’.” I paused. “You need more?”

“I’d prefer to learn the rest the hard way.” Wesley kissed my cheek. “If it’s all the same to you?”

 

“I think that should be okay.” I nodded, then hurried onwards. “We’re going to be okay.” We were.

“I know.” Wesley murmured, thumb gently stroking my cheek, his eyes locked on mine. “I believe you. I trust you. I know you.”

“Yes.” My smile widened of its own accord. “You do.” And I bent back down, letting myself melt into him once again.

 

“You must be hungry.” Wesley said semi-reluctantly a long while later.

“Not really.” I protested. My stomach rumbled and I glared at it. “Traitor.”

Wesley laughed softly and pressed a soft kiss to my cheek, rubbing my back fondly. “Cereal sound alright?”

“Yeah.” I nodded.

“Cocoa Pops?” Wesley suggested innocently.

I rolled my eyes and smiled. “You know they’re my favourite.”

“Yes.” He grinned and slowly wormed his way out of my embrace (I may not have been entirely cooperative). 

 

I watched curiously as he walked around the sofa, past his kitchen area and towards the front door, putting on shoes. “What are you doing?” I asked, frowning.

Wesley blinked, looking between me and the door. “I’m going to buy some Cocoa Pops.”

“Wesley!” I gasped and leapt up to smack him on the shoulder.

“Ow. What was that for?”

“You can’t just ask whether I want something like you’ve got it in the kitchen, then go out and buy it!” I said accusingly, hands on my hips. “You just can’t!”

“Why?” His grin widened. “What difference does it make?”

“It’ll make me feel bad.” I stepped closer to him, then said more quietly. “And… I’m not ready for you to leave. Not just yet.”

Wesley’s eyes softened and he nodded, removing his shoes. I sighed with relief and he spoke. “Then I’m afraid breakfast options are quite limited.”

“What’s on the menu?” I gripped his hand and squeezed tightly as he led me over to the kitchen.

Wesley wasn’t bothering trying to keep a giant, adorable grin off his face. “I have bread, butter, a toaster and porridge.”

 

“Hmm.” I opened his fridge. Almost completely empty. Aha! I pulled out the two solitary packets and set them down on the top. “Aha!”

“Aha?” Wesley raised one eyebrow.

“Bread.” I nodded to the loaf, then pointed at the packets. “Cheese and ham! I’m making toasted sandwiches! You want one?”

Wesley whimpered softly, eyes shining. “Yes please.”

I couldn’t keep my own smile off my face. “You really care about me, then?” I murmured, wrapping my arms around him.

“Yes.”

And I knew it was too soon, much too soon, stupidly soon, but I wanted to ask. “Do you love me?”

“Yes.” Wesley replied without a second’s hesitation, voice cracking just a little. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” I confessed. I had for a while, I just… hadn’t known it. I tugged his head down towards me, pulling him into a kiss. When we broke apart, Wesley’s eyes were shining brighter than I’d ever seen them. He looked impossibly happy. “You look like you’ve just won the lottery.”

“I have.” Wesley replied, squeezing both my hands. “Twice running.”

“Twice?” I questioned.

“First time is knowing you. And loving you.” Wesley bent down to press a kiss to one cheek. “Second time is you loving me.” And kissed the other.

 

I smiled as widely as I possibly could. “I… I should probably get cooking.”

“Please do.” Wesley rubbed my stomach gently. “I hate to think of you hungry.” I laughed and turned to start preparation. Wesley stayed right behind me at first, pressing an occasional kiss to the top of my head, stroking a free hand gently, reminding me he was there. It was wonderful. After a minute or so without any touching I turned around, curious, and saw Wesley emerging from the bedroom, holding up a comfy-looking long-sleeved sweatshirt and a pair of baggy sweatpants. 

 

“Your current attire looks… uncomfortable.” Wesley supplied in response to my unanswered question, laying them down on the sofa and patting the pile gently. “Just a thought.”

I was reminded suddenly of how very intensely uncomfortable my clothes currently were. “A very thoughtful, appreciated thought.” I grinned.

 

“Can you cook for a second while I change?”

Wesley looked afraid. “Sure. I’ll try.”

I laughed. “Just try not to burn the toast.” I skipped past him, pressed a kiss to his cheek and went into the bedroom, carefully shutting the door behind me.

 

“Lilah?” I dumped the clothes on the bed and walked up to the mirror, glaring unflinchingly into her eyes.

 

_You bitch. I’m going to-_

 

I cut her off. “You did what you did with Charles because of Wesley, didn’t you? Not to hurt him for its own sake, but to make him hate me. And to leave me with no choice but to stay away from him. Once we were split up, you’d have got your claws into Wesley tightly, wouldn’t you?”

 

_You ruined everything._ Lilah’s growl, the pure rage in it, was all the confirmation I needed. _You had your perfect life. You screwed that all up. That was your choice to do that. But it wasn’t enough, huh? If Perfect Fred doesn’t get nice things, then why should I? Why should I get to be happy? You just couldn’t bear the thought of me enjoying anything in this dead husk of a world. So you stole my life, and you’ve taken him._

 

“Lilah. Listen closely. You do not get to take Wesley from me. You do not get to decide what I do. You do not get to choose the path my life takes. I am _done_ with other people deciding what happens to me.”

 

_You stupid, pathetic little bitch._ Lilah’s sneer sounded strained. _You think you know Wesley just because he acts all lovey-dovey with you? That’s not who he is anymore, not really. I know. He’s changed since you all abandoned him. He’s-_

 

“He’s _mine._ ” I stepped forward so my nose was practically touching the glass. “And if you _ever_ come near him again, if you _ever_ try to hurt him again, then I. Will. Crush. You.”

 

_You wouldn’t-_

 

“I _will._ ” I glared into the mirror. “You know it, Lilah. You know the truth. So just say it.”

 

_Say what?_

 

“You know what. Just admit it to yourself.” She lasted longer than I thought she would.

 

_He’s yours._ It was the quietest I’d ever heard Lilah speak.

 

“Thank you.” I paused. “I don’t want to hear your voice ever again, Lilah. In the back of my head, or any time in the future. And that includes an answer to this question. So… goodbye.” Lilah didn’t respond. Good riddance.

 

I walked back to the bed, slipping into the clothes Wesley had picked out for me. I smiled and stretched happily: so much more comfortable.

 

I’d barely set foot in the kitchen area when Wesley leaped back from the counter like the floor was made of lava. I laughed. “You don’t cook much, then?” I teased.

“Frankly, cooking terrifies me.” Wesley confessed. “I can brew excellent tea, make passable coffee, pour cereal and toast bread. Beyond that…” I smiled indulgently and resumed cooking. 

 

I plonked two finished toasties onto two plates and passed one to Wesley, who had just finished pouring me an apple juice. I started walking to the table and frowned. “That is not a convenient surface to eat off.” I pointed out, looking sceptically at the forest of empty glass bottles.

Wesley flushed. “Sorry, let me just…”

“Let’s eat on the sofa.” I suggested, pulling him after me. “Unless you’re worried about breadcrumbs?”

“I think I can manage.” Wesley smiled, sitting down next to me.

 

My body reminded me very suddenly that I had eaten neither dinner or breakfast, and I devoured the toasted sandwich as fast as I could. I licked my lips after finishing - recovering an impressive amount of cheese - and turned to face Wesley. He was smiling at me, having barely eaten a quarter of his own. I flushed at my lack of manners and he cooed. “No need for that.” He murmured, caressing my cheek tenderly. Then he calmly put the untouched half of his toastie on my plate.

“Wesley…” I did my best to frown at him, but my body was very insistent that I eat that half sandwich and decided to make its point clearly by having my stomach rumble loudly.

“I insist.” Wesley grinned.

“Thanks.” I bit my lip to tamp down slightly on my stupidly large smile and munched through the meal.

 

Wesley finished a few seconds before me and when I was eating my last few bites he kissed my cheek and removed my empty plate from my lap, moving to deposit both of them in the sink. He brought back some kitchen towel to clean up his hands and offered me some. I smiled gratefully and cleaned my impossibly messy hands and face. 

 

“How are you feeling?” Wesley asked quietly, wrapping one arm around me and squeezing my hand softly.

“A million times better.” I cuddled him. “Tango yankee sierra mike.” I kissed him gently.

 

“So.” Wesley asked. “Do you still have my instructions? For the spell?”

“Ooh! Yes.” I grabbed my purse off the coffee table and fumbled it open, triumphantly producing the sheet. 

“I’m surprised Lilah didn’t ditch these.” Wesley murmured, accepting the sheet from me and unfolding it. 

“She claimed she was planning on doing the spell this morning.” I scowled just thinking about her. “Said it was the next thing she was gonna do before I took control.”

“It’s a very good thing you did take control.” Wesley said softly.

 

I shuddered. If Lilah had managed to split us up again… God knows how I would have explained everything to Wesley. And to Charles. 

 

“What was her mistake?” Wesley frowned. “How did you retake control?”

“I don’t know.” I frowned. “Maybe she-” I stiffened. I’d figured it out. 

 

“It doesn’t matter.” I shrugged. “Please let’s not… please.” Wesley nodded understandingly.

 

Looking back it was so obvious. I hadn’t even thought about it, I’d been so focused on running from that room, from him. Lilah had lost control because she’d told Charles that she loved him.

 

And I didn’t. Couldn’t. Not anymore.

 

Move on. Move on. “Can you… do the summoning?” I asked. “You’ll probably be better at it than me.”

Wesley nodded. “Of course.” I withdrew the little bag of binding dust from the purse and handed it to him. He stood up and cleared a small space on the wooden floor of his apartment, then sprinkled a circle of the binding dust on the floor. A circle just large enough for someone to stand in. He opened a cupboard on one side of the room and withdrew a small brazier thing, lighting a tiny fire within it. He gathered a few bunches of herbs and stood next to the circle, herbs and cauldron on the table next to him.

 

“Probably best to stand back.” He cautioned. I nodded and stood well clear, on the opposite side of the circle to him.

 

Wesley drew a deep breath and stared directly at the floor of the circle, then began dropping the herbs into the flames. They caught light. “Cassandra, I beseech thee. In the name of all who have had their retribution stolen by another, come before me!”

 

The air inside the circle wavered and a female figured shimmered into being. It was Sandy! Or Cassandra. Whatever, the waitress - _demon_ \- from the diner. She was facing Wesley, her back to me, long blonde hair falling almost to her waist. “Mortal!” Her voice rasped. “At last, you call on me.”

“At last?” Wesley’s brow furrowed and he stepped right to the edge of the circle. I felt a chill pass through me: had this thing been hoping we’d summon it? Had we fallen into some trap? “You’ve been expecting me?”

“For MONTHS!” The demon cackled nastily. “You have so much to desire vengeance for, little man. Come now! Make your wish: which of your detractors would you like to smite down first? Perhaps-”

 

Wesley’s arm darted forwards and I heard a snapping noise like a string being broken, saw Wesley step away from the circle, a pendant clutched in his hand. “Hey! Give that back!” Cassandra’s tone had become petulant and she lunged forwards-

 

Slamming straight into an invisible wall, bouncing off it and stumbling back into another invisible wall behind her. She looked down at the circle of dust on the floor. “Well, crap.” Her voice was human again. She tilted her head to look at Wesley. “This is a very impolite way to ask for vengeance, you know. Watchers. No respect.”

 

“Well, Vengeance demons are just as bad.” I growled. 

Cassandra turned to face me and blinked. Her face shifted from demonic to human. “Lilah? What do you want? You’re meant to schedule appointments in advance, otherwise I come in with the whole overblown Vengeance demon crap and look tacky.”

 

I blinked. “Umm… I’m not Lilah?”

Cassandra blinked. “Identical twin?”

“No!” I folded my arms and glared at her. “You granted my wish!”

Cassandra looked puzzled. “Umm… no I didn’t. I’d remember granting a wish to someone who looked like Lilah Morgan. I’d have taken a photo.”

“In the diner!” I raised both eyebrows and glared at her. “Like, the day before yesterday?”

Cassandra blinked at me. Then she threw back her head and howled with laughter. “I turned you into Lilah Morgan? Hahaha! Oh, that is hilarious. That is incredible. What are the goddamn odds?”

 

“You didn’t choose to change her into Lilah?” Wesley looked incredulous, still clutching her pendant.

“Nope. Just made sure it would be whoever she’d hate being most.” Cassandra giggled. “Lilah Morgan, that is… wow. Just wow.”

“Why did you do this to me?” I demanded. “What the hell did I do?”

“Pumpkin, I came to do you a favour.” Cassandra smiled genuinely. “Your rightful vengeance on that professor of yours was stolen from you, by that ass Gunn. I was expecting you to wish some horrible fate on him or on someone else you wanted to hurt. The self-pitying wish caught me by surprise, but my job is to cause chaos and destruction so I rolled with it.”

“It wasn’t even planned?” I blinked incredulously. “You did this to me… on the spur of the moment?”

“Pretty much.” Cassandra nodded. “Let me guess: you want a refund. Sorry: Vengeance demons aren’t in the business of do-overs.”

 

“How’s this?” I offered. “You grant me another wish - no funny business - or Wesley will smash your pendant.”

“So?” Cassandra shrugged. “It’s just a pendant.”

“Which will render you mortal and powerless if I break it.” Wesley added.

Cassandra scowled. “Damned Watchers.”

“Do we have an accord then?” I raised an eyebrow and folded my arms.

“Sure.” Cassandra nodded. “But I’m not granting any wish that doesn’t involve me being sent far away from here, safely in possession of my pendant and immune to your future summons.”

“I can manage that.”

“Cool.” Sandy cracked her knuckles. “What are we gonna go for here? The classic ‘I wish I never met you’ wish?”

 

“Nah.” I shook my head.

 

Wesley blinked at me. “Fred are… are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure.” I frowned.

“I mean,” Wesley swallowed. “You could make sure none of this ever happened. All the grief Lilah put you through, what happened with Gunn… you could forget all the pain.”

“And forget you? How you feel? How I feel? What happened?” I shook my head vehemently. “Not a chance.”

 

Wesley smiled shyly, looking impossibly relieved.

 

“I’d never do that.” I looked at Cassandra meaningfully. “Pain’s in the past. All we can do is keep going forwards.”

 

Cassandra looked at me blankly. I kept staring at her. “Did I miss something?”

“You said that to me in the diner!” I said disbelievingly. “To get me to wish!”

“Pfft, that’s just fortune cookie crap.” Cassandra shrugged. “I’m a Vengeance demon, not a buddhist monk.”

 

I huffed and walked over to Wesley, picking up a piece of paper and a pen. “Right. Help me come up with an absolutely foolproof wish.”

 

“I don’t do multi-functional wishes.” Cassandra yelled at us as we wrote. “I already pissed off some very powerful entities with your wish, I’m not doing that again.”

“How’d you piss them off?” I frowned.

“The ripple effect of your wish - the way I changed reality - accidentally knocked over some dominoes an ancient Higher Being had been setting up for quite some time.” Cassandra shrugged. “There was this whole apocalypse plan I sorta screwed up. You would not believe the telling off I got…”

 

“Yeah, I don’t care.” I held up the piece of paper and scanned the wish one more time. 

“Looks good.” Wesley reassured me.

I took a deep breath. “I wish for myself, Winifred Burkle, to be restored to my original body in the exact condition it was in forty-eight hours ago with all my current memories intact, and for Lilah Morgan to be restored to her body as it was forty-eight hours ago-” I resisted the urge to wish that her arms and legs would be broken.“-with all her memories intact - in her apartment - and that the Vengeance demon Cassandra was removed from Wesley-Wyndam Pryce’s summoning circle - causing no damage in the process - and was rendered incapable of ever granting wishes to orinfluencing the lives of anyone known by the aforementioned Winifred Burkle or Wesley Wyndam-Pryce, or of ever returning to Los Angeles, and was rendered immune to summoning by Winifred Burkle and Wesley Wyndam-Pryce, and reclaimed possession of her pendant.” I stopped talking and raised an eyebrow at Cassandra.

 

Her eyebrows knitted together and she scowled, obviously looking for a weak spot. “…Done.” She growled unenthusiastically, face shifting, and with a rush of air she vanished. The world spun around me. I took a deep breath and tried to catch my bearings: I felt like I was lower down…I’d got shorter!

 

I looked at my hair: my shade! I lifted up my hands and arms for inspection: mine again! I looked down at myself and clapped: I was back! I was me! I squealed happily and raced into the bedroom, yanking open the wardrobe to look in the mirror. I jumped up and down with joy, smile plastered impossibly wide on my face - _my_ face! - in the mirror! I punched the air and laughed with joy, impossibly happy to be myself again! 

 

I heard Wesley enter the room and declared exuberantly. “I’m me! I’m me again!”

“You never stopped being you.” Wesley murmured and wrapped his arms around me - God that felt a thousand times better in my own body - and lent down to kiss me. I pulled him closer and responded enthusiastically (that felt a _million_ times better). 

 

“Fine.” I grinned up at him. “I _look_ like myself again!”

“That’s right.” Wesley held me tighter. “You look perfect again.” I giggled happily and kissed him again, overcome with impossible _exuberance_ because the nightmare was finally over! 

 

“Wait a second.” I told Wesley after the third - or maybe it was the fourth, I was losing count - kiss. He raised an eyebrow. “I want you to hear it in my voice.” I explained.

 

I took a deep breath and this time when I spoke, there was no tremble in my voice. “I know you only want me to be happy. I want to kiss _you._ You’re the one who knows me best and it feels like you’re the only one who knows me at all and I know you love me, and I know I love you so please, please kiss me!” I smiled at Wesley.

“I didn’t think.” Wesley murmured, smiling. “That anything could sound better than when you said that for the first time.” And he followed my instruction. I moulded myself as close against him as I possibly could, melting into his arms. I fit perfectly against him.

 

“Do you want to go out and get lunch?” I asked several hours later, cuddled up on the sofa.

“Let me think.” Wesley kissed me deeply and at length. “No.”

I laughed and smiled. “Are you sure?”

“Hmm.” Wesley pulled me into his lap and toyed with the sleeve of my shirt (technically his shirt since I hadn’t changed clothes, these were so comfy) gently, then stroked the back of my hand. “Very sure.”

“Well…” I purred, more than happy with this turn of events. “Why don’t we order in food then?”

“Sounds good.” Wesley kissed my neck and I shivered. “Provided you order quickly. I don’t want you away from me for too long.”

“I couldn’t stay away very long if I wanted to.” I smiled. “Not that I do want to. What’s your favourite takeaway food?”

“Tacos.” Wesley replied instantly.

I smacked him. “That’s my favourite. Nice try. Tell me what you want to order.”

“Tacos.” He looked at me innocently.

“You’re impossible!” I gasped and shook him by the shoulders. “Seriously! You can’t just get me what I want all the time!”

“Why not?”

“I’ll get spoilt.” I pointed out.

“And you’re under the impression that I don’t want to spoil you?” Wesley frowned. “I hate to burst your bubble…”

“Tell me or I’ll order something I don’t like.” I threatened. “Just to spite you.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I absolutely would.” I put my hands on my hips and gave him my most stubborn look. It was important to establish boundaries early in the relationship, and I honestly believed that if I didn’t put a stop to it soon Wesley would let me ride roughshod over him.

He caved. “Chinese then.”

“Thank you.” I grinned and kissed both his cheeks. “Let me go order.”

“So you still get to decide the dishes we have?” Wesley frowned.

“You have to spoil me a little.” I pouted. Wesley laughed, smiled and kissed me furiously. I staggered upright - feeling dizzy in the nicest possible way - and made my unsteady way over to the phone. I struggled to remember the number of the Chinese place we ordered from and rang them. 

 

I heard a knock at the door. “Get that, please.” I gestured to it, leaning back against the counter to watch Wesley.

Wesley bowed deeply and I giggled. He stood up, stretched and sauntered over to the door, humming as he went, a spring in his step. As soon as he reached the door he pulled it open, that adorable wide smile probably still on his face. “Hi, how can I…” Wesley trailed off.

 

I dropped the phone, letting it hang from the cord. 

 

Charles was there.

 

My stomach twisted involuntarily and I turned and _ran_ , straight into the bedroom, shutting the door behind me and leaning against it. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried not to imagine him, to look at him because looking at him…

 

It brought everything back.

 

“Gunn.” Wesley’s voice was quiet but not soft. “Get out. Now.”

“It’s not her, Wesley. It looks like her but it’s… it’s not. I… I think it’s Lilah, you have to believe me, I-”

“Gunn, it’s her.” Wesley paused. “I know what happened and I… Fred wants you to leave. Please go.”

“How do you know?”

“Fred told me. Gunn, don’t try to get in, don’t-”

 

“Fred!” Charles was inside the apartment. I shuddered and tried to hold the door shut tighter. I didn’t want to hear his voice. I didn’t. It brought back awful memories too. The things he’d said…

“Charles, stop!” I shut my eyes and yelled as loud as I could. 

The footsteps stopped right outside the door. “Fred, I…” Charles trailed off. “I’m so sorry, please let me-”

“No.” I spoke very clearly. “I can’t Charles, I’m sorry, I _can’t_.”

 

A pause. I drew a deep breath. “You know that… that things haven’t been right between us for a while now and… and that was the last straw. I’m sorry, it’s over.”

“Please.” Charles whispered. “Let’s talk. Open the door.”

“No.” I shuddered. “I can’t. You… you already talked. To Lilah. And you… you couldn’t tell the difference between her and me and… just go. Please, please, go.”

“How was I supposed to know?” Charles demanded and I let out a shaking sob. How _couldn’t_ he have known? “Angel and Lorne didn’t! Lorne has superpowers and he-”

“Wesley knew.” I had to get rid of him, I couldn’t stand him being here. “As soon as he saw me, he knew. You… you don’t understand me. You don’t even really know me… I’m sorry. Please go.”

 

I could hear him turning around and breathed a sigh of relief. “You did this.” Charles spat accusingly… but his voice was going in the opposite direction. Directed at _Wesley_. “You set this up, didn’t you?” That was ridiculous! How dare he blame-

I heard the crack of a fist connecting and somebody slumping to the floor. A soft voice. Wesley’s. “I had nothing to do with this. _Nothing._ I would never hurt Fred. If you’d seen what you did to her, how she felt, the way she…” Wesley paused for a few seconds and I heard him draw a shaky breath. “If you’d seen her… you’d beg me to hurt you. Get out, Gunn. Get out now.”

 

“Please just go.” I pleaded. I heard receding footsteps. The sound of the door closing.

“He’s gone.” Wesley said reassuringly.

 

I pulled the door open and looked at Wesley anxiously. He was fine. They hadn’t been fighting properly. Then I saw his knuckles were slightly raw. “How hard did you hit him?” I whispered.

“I’m sorry.” Wesley hung his head, looking ashamed. “I just… what he did… how it made you feel… what he said…”

“I forgive you.” I reassured him and pulled him into a hug. He embraced me gently, and I pressed myself tightly against him. 

 

“Do you still want Chinese takeaway?” I asked eventually.

“Only if we have it together.” Wesley caressed me, voice soothing.

I smiled. “We will. I think I’d like for us to do everything together. Would you like that?”

“I think I would like that very, very much.” Wesley pressed a kiss to my forehead.

 

I looked up at him and pointed to my mouth. “You missed.” I informed him, deadpan and Wesley laughed.

“Have I ever told you you’re very funny?”

“No. Have I ever told you you’re a really great kisser?”

Wesley choked. “No.”

“Well, you are.” I tapped my mouth with one finger impatiently. 

“I love you.” Wesley granted my request.

“I love you too.” I wrapped Wesley in a tight embrace. I hadn’t been exaggerating when I said that I wanted us to do everything together.

 

And Wesley always made sure that I got what I wanted. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, as you can probably tell, that mostly wraps up this story. I'll release an epilogue chapter soon to cap things off. I hope you all enjoyed this!


	6. Seven Happy People

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not so much a happy ending as a happy beginning (to two very happy lives).

**Fred - One Day Later**

 

I kept my eyes squeezed shut, fighting the yawn that I knew was coming with a smile on my face. I snuggled slightly more comfortably into the duvet and absentmindedly flipped the pillow over so I was on the cool side.

 

There it was. I stretched my arms out into the air above the duvet and allowed myself to yawn lazily, shifting to make myself more comfortable as I did so. That felt nice. Everything felt nice, right now. I slowly opened one eye to look around the room. Wesley’s place. But - I patted the other side of the bed just to be sure - regrettably, no Wesley himself. At least not in here.

 

And not for a lack of trying on my part! I’d tried pulling him in here last night so we could sleep in each other’s arms, but he’d _insisted_ on sleeping on the sofa with one pillow and a couple of blankets. All because I’d had just one glass of his whiskey. I closed my eyes, then rolled them. Very sweet. Yet frustrating and also unhelpful. In the best way.

 

Wesley. I couldn’t help but smile. I was with _Wesley_. We were together at last. No more tense reunions, no more aching absences, no more conflicted feelings. Just someone who loved me. And who I loved in return. 

 

And who I was suddenly itching to say good morning too. Properly. 

 

I rolled out of bed and stood up slowly, stretching my arms overhead and yawning once more. That felt nice. I blinked my eyes open and hunted around the room for something to wear, rubbing my sides to ward off goosebumps. I smiled: being chilly right now was _totally_ worth it for the revenge I’d gotten on Wesley for not coming to bed with me.

 

\+ + + + + + +

 

**Wesley - The Previous Night**

 

Fred gently pulled away, soulful brown eyes looking at me pleadingly as she stood in the doorway to the bedroom. “And you’re _sure_ you won’t come with me? Just to cuddle?”

“I’m sure, sweetheart.” I kissed her forehead.

“Why?” She pouted up at me, hands on hips.

I was suddenly having a great deal of trouble remembering exactly why. “Call it insurance against my skepticism the universe could be so good to me. And against that half bottle of whiskey you drank.”

“It was one glass.” Fred’s pout worsened. I neglected to point out it was the novelty kind of glass large enough to hold half a bottle of whiskey. She huffed.

 

I couldn’t have kept myself from kissing her again for anything. 

 

Her eyes opened and she smiled slightly. It was a mischievous kind of smile. My heart sped up in anticipation. “You got everything you need to sleep on the sofa? Blankets, pillow?”

“All present and accounted for.” I nodded.

“Good. Just to be clear, if you’re not coming with me…” Fred stepped right up to me and kissed me gently. “There’s to be no complaints about how I sleep.”

I frowned: what was she getting at? “Of course not.” Why would I have complaints?

“Good.” Fred smiled. “Because I’ll be sleeping completely naked.”

 

I blinked. Oh.

 

“How many feet do you reckon that’ll be between you, sleeping on the sofa, and me, sleeping naked, in your bed?” Fred frowned thoughtfully. “Your sheets, your duvet, your pillow… naked me.And all of… fifteen feet between us.”

 

Fred smiled and kissed me on the cheek. “ _Very_ pleasant dreams.” She stepped back abruptly and slammed the door in my face. Then made no attempt to undress quietly. The opposite in fact. I wonder if I was allowed to tell her I’d changed my mind?

 

Probably not. This was revenge and she was loving every second of it.

 

“Pleasant dreams to you too.” I called through the door, and made my way over the sofa.

“Thanks!” Fred called out. Then, a second later. “All done now, if you were wondering! What side of the bed do you normally sleep on?”

I choked. “Right hand side.”

“Right hand side it is!”

 

God, how was I supposed to keep that mental image out of my head? How was I supposed to get any sleep when Fred was… I mean… in _my_ bed? Fifteen feet away! Oh, she was wicked. 

 

And all the more perfect for it.

 

\+ + + + + + +

 

**Fred**

 

I pulled on the sweatshirt (one of Wesley’s warmer and more comfortable ones) over my underwear and padded over to the mirror in the bathroom. God, my hair was a mess. I grabbed a comb and made myself vaguely presentable. I pursed my lips thoughtfully, toying with the hem of the sweatshirt, which came down to mid-thigh. Did I need trousers? Probably not, it wasn’t like it was cold in the apartment or anything. Underwear would be fine. 

 

I slowly teased open the door to the apartment, peeking out: Wesley wasn’t up yet. I crept over to the sofa and looked at him, another smile blossoming on my face. He was sleeping very peacefully. The sofa wasn’t exactly designed to be a bed, but he’d done his best. Lying down, feet towards the kitchen end of the sofa, under a spare duvet. His eyes were closed, face relaxed, and the slightest smile tugging at his mouth. I couldn’t bear to wake him up. I contented myself with bending down and pressing a feather-light kiss to his forehead.

 

I made my way over to the kitchen, putting the kettle on. Now, where did Wesley keep his tea leaves? I searched as quickly (and quietly!) as I could, eventually finding them in a jar on the side. I put the leaves in a mug, retrieved a spoon and stared intensely at the kettle, back to the rest of the apartment. If that boiled over, the noise would definitely wake Wesley up. I had to switch it off as soon as the water was boiled so I could brew him his tea without waking him, and have it ready for him when he eventually woke up on his own.

 

While I waited, I ran through the other ingredients. He didn’t take sugar. I opened the fridge: there was milk. Hmm. I checked the date, opened it and sniffed warily: still good. I put it down on the side and snapped my attention back to the kettle: it had almost got me! Sneaky appliance had been right about to boil over! I snatched it off the hob and switched off the heat, carefully pouring the water into the mug. I began stirring absent-mindedly, rubbing my eyes with my free hand as I did so. I wonder if Wesley kept coffee beans here somewhere? He must do, right? I’d make myself a coffee once Wesley had his tea to hand for when he woke up. I added the milk and stirred a little more: all done! I blew on the tea gently, carefully picked up the mug, and turned around.

 

Wesley was sitting upright at his end of the sofa, very much awake, propped against his pillow, looking at me very fondly. I smiled warmly at him and began making my way over to him. “I won’t deny that _this_ is one of my fantasies.” Wesley smiled as I passed him the tea. “Or at least, it was before it became reality.” He sipped his tea, smile widening.

 

I sat on the coffee table. “That doesn’t surprise me. How long have you been up, _precisely_?”

“Oh, not long.” Wesley shrugged. “Perhaps for a few seconds before you turned around.”

“Oh, really?” I raised an eyebrow.

“Really.”

“Hmm. Then why didn’t you say good morning to me?” I rested my chin on one hand.

“No particular reason.” Wesley shrugged.

“So it had nothing to do with the fact that while I was standing there, back to you, making tea, you could stare at me as much as you wanted?” I smirked.

“That sounds preposterous.” Wesley’s eyes gleamed. I noted that he hadn’t denied it.

 

“Mmm.” I crossed my legs deliberately, lifting my head off my hand and smiling. “And also nothing to do with the fact that I have no trousers on?”

Wesley made a show of trailing his gaze up my legs before looking me in the eye. “Couldn’t have put it better myself, Fred.”

“So, you don’t have anything to say for yourself?” I smirked. Turnabout was fair play. I’d teased him with my antics last night, he teased me this morning. Actually scratch that. Turnabout wasn’t fair play.

 

Turnabout was _fun._ When it was with Wesley.

 

Wesley leaned in. I leaned in until our noses almost touched. “Just good morning, gorgeous.” Wesley kissed my cheek. I suddenly didn’t feel in need of coffee. “And thank you very much for the tea.”

“You’re welcome.” I kissed his nose. “Good morning, sweetheart.” I kissed him properly, hooking one arm around his shoulders to keep him close as I did so.

 

Wesley broke off the kiss with a startled yelp as he fell off the sofa. I caught him with one arm, unable to suppress a giggle as I helped him back onto the sofa. “Bloody cheap furniture.” He muttered. “I was enjoying myself.”

“Oh, I could tell. But no need to fear, I have a solution.” I got up and sat at the other end of the sofa, tucking myself underneath the covers. “Wes, stop hogging.”

“Yes ma’am.” He relinquished the duvet and I pulled it up to my chin. If this sofa hadn’t been designed for one person to sleep on, it was definitely not big enough for two. Unless they were willing to share space.

 

I didn’t mind that. I rested my feet in his lap and closed my eyes, pulling the duvet over my head. Wesley chuckled. “You did warn me, I suppose.”

“I very much did.” Safely out of Wesley’s sight, I pulled off the sweatshirt and tucked it in-between the back of the sofa cushions, then emerged again, keeping the duvet tucked under my chin so as not to give the game away.

 

“You sleep okay?” I enquired.

“Very well, actually.” Wesley frowned at me. “Once I was actually able to take my mind off you enough to sleep.”

“Was the idea of me sleeping next-door so distracting?” I grinned. “I have no idea how you’ll manage to get any sleep at all once we start sharing.”

 

Wesley flushed and I blew him a kiss, smiling. I pressed on. “So you tried to take your mind off me.”

“It was the only thing that worked.” 

“Interesting. I tried the exact opposite with regards to you, and I slept just fine.” I closed my eyes and affected a deliberate sigh. “Very relaxing. Very pleasant dreams.”

Wesley was red as a tomato. “This is cruelty.” He declared eventually, weakly.

“You could have avoided all of it.” I shrugged playfully.

“That’s blackmail.”

“No, that was punishment after the fact.” I corrected him. “Blackmail would be if I said I was going to do all those things again if you try the same stunt tonight. Which I will.”

“ _That_ was blackmail.”

“Guilty as charged.” I smiled. “So….” I drew out the word.

“So?” Wesley raised an eyebrow.

 

“How do you feel about a late breakfast today, Wes? Somewhere nice. Where we can catch some sunlight. Then a park, the shops to get some food-”

“Like ice cream.” Wesley cut in.

“- and swing by the Hyperion to grab some clothes for me to wear. Then, we could maybe go out to the movies tonight? If you’d like that?” I paused, nodding. “Also, yes, definitely ice cream.”

 

“That all sounds unspeakably lovely.” Wesley nodded, then a slight frown creased his face as he checked the clock on the wall: 7am. “But, Fred, it’s still early. There’s no need for you to have to wait and settle for a late breakf-”

 

Oh, gosh. How was he so clever and yet so dense?

 

I kept the duvet tucked under my chin and crawled forwards along the sofa to put one finger over Wesley’s mouth. He stopped talking. I caressed his lips gently ( _so_ soft), while groping around for the sweatshirt I’d hidden in the sofa with my other arm. Once I found it, I lifted it above the duvet, holding it out so Wesley could see it.

 

His frown deepened. “Weren’t you just-” His eyes widened. “-oh.”

“Oh.” I agreed, dropping the sweatshirt and letting the duvet untuck from my chin, causing it to fall back down. Wesley’s expression was extremely gratifying. 

 

“Wesley,” I bent forwards and kissed him at length. “How would you feel about a _late_ breakfast today?”

Wesley blinked, then smiled craftily. “Would you consider postponing that to a brunch?”

_Much_ better. “Well, that would rather depend.” I adopted a thoughtful expression.

“On?”

“How long you can hold my attention.” I smiled sweetly.

Wesley’s eyes gleamed. “I think I should be able to manage that.” One arm wrapped around my back and insistently tugged me closer. Wesley had lovely warm hands.

 

He managed.

 

\+ + + + + + +

 

**Wesley - One Week Later**

 

“Stand up straight.” Fred instructed me seriously.

I straightened up. 

“Tell me what you want.” Fred folded her arms. “More than anything in the world.”

“You.” I smiled.

 

Fred smacked me. “Ow.” I rubbed my cheek.

“Try again.” Fred smirked. 

“What I want more than anything in the world is-”

Fred must have seen what I was planning. “I’ve got unlimited smacks in this thing.” She waved her left arm threateningly. “For the record. So try to get the answer right sooner rather than later.”

 

I sighed, holding up both hands in a gesture of surrender. “I want the job.”

“Good.” Fred beamed and kissed me. “That was for luck.”

“Thank you.” I smiled.

“This one is because I enjoy kissing you very much.” Fred kissed me again.

“The feeling is very much mutual, I assure you.” I grinned.

Fred kissed me again, more gently this time. “And that one’s a thank you.”

“For?” I raised an eyebrow.

 

“Coming back.” Fred smiled, taking my hand and squeezing it. She led me into the courtyard of the Hyperion. “Oh, and also for last night.”

“Yes, you did enjoy yourself.” Fred stopped midway up the stairs and turned around. Her expression was playful. 

 

I had a feeling it would not reman so for more than two seconds if I didn’t follow up appropriately.

 

“It was the best night of my life, Fred.” I spoke softly, earnestly, and kissed her chastely. “By far.”

“For me as well.” Fred’s expression went stern. “But the job is what matters right now! Get the job!”

I laughed. “Yes, Fred.”

“That means no funny business once we’re inside.” Fred’s mouth quirked up at the corners. “Strictly professional.”

 

I frowned. 

 

“Just until you get the job.” Fred giggled, swatting me lightly. “Patience is a virtue.”

“So as soon as I get the job…” I wrapped my arm around her waist.

Fred rolled her eyes. “Yes, I _suppose_ , if you simply cannot restrain yourself.” I growled and kissed her.

 

Fred giggled, withdrawing her hand. “Wesley, be good.” Her face became serious. “Please.”

“Of course.” I smiled. She smiled back. “Ladies first.” I gestured to the door.  
“Age before wisdom.”

 

I sighed, took a deep breath, and marched into the Hyperion. On the surface, nothing had changed. The same furniture. Same old place. Lorne was standing at the counter, humming a tune, looking at a folder of some kind. I could see Angel in his office, sitting at his desk.

 

Cordelia was sitting on a sofa in the corner of the room, eating ice cream. Out of the tub. With a very large spoon. She was wearing an outfit that looked vaguely like pyjamas, and was glaring morosely at the ice cream as she ate it. She did not look to be in the mood for conversation. I frowned, turning to Fred, and jerking a thumb at Cordy.

 

“Is that… normal?” I said quietly. Fred shook her head, looking just as mystified as I was. She looked very pretty when she was mystified. Confound this no kissing rule! However temporary. Fred obviously caught my line of thinking. She smirked ever so slightly, wagged one finger reproachfully, and walked further into the lobby. I followed.

 

“Hi, Lorne!” Fred called out, waving as we approached the counter.

“Fredikins!” Lorne looked up, smiling broadly and bustling around the counter to hug her. “How are you?”

“Very, very good, thank you.” Fred relinquished the hug. “And yourself?”

“Oh, I’m great.” Lorne coughed, looking abashed. “Err… look. The whole thing with err… y’know. The imposter. That was a-”

“I don’t hold a grudge, Lorne.” Fred waved a hand airily and smiled. “Besides I operate a strict yet fair two strikes policy on Doppelgänger recognition.”

“Ah.” Lorne nodded slowly. “Duly noted.” Translation: you’re forgiven but if it happens again I _will_ kick your green arse. God, I loved her.

 

“Good morning, Lorne.” I nodded.  
“Ah, Wesley my man. Good to see you.” Lorne grinned. “Ready for your job interview?”

“I don’t imagine Angel will put me through the wringer.” I shrugged. “But if he does, I’m prepared.”

“Good stuff. Great stuff.”

 

“Lorne,” I lowered my voice and glanced over my shoulder: Cordy hadn’t moved. All that had changed was the amount of ice cream in the tub. “What’s going on with-”

“Don’t ask.” Lorne muttered. “We have no idea, but it’s bad. She hasn’t stopped all week. She’s not talking. It’s _freaking me out.”_

“Oh.” I nodded. “Right.” That was odd. Why would Cordelia-

 

“Ah, Wesley.” Angel emerged from his office. “Fred.”

“Angel.” I inclined my head.

“Why don’t you, uh, step into my office?” Angel gestured with one hand.

“Thank you.” I walked into the office and sat down in one of the guest chairs. Angel sat down beside his desk, while Fred walked around the desk and leaned nonchalantly against the wall behind Angel. I quirked an eyebrow at her but her expression stayed stony. Hmm.

 

“So…” Angel shuffled some papers around on his desk, then looked at me. “You want to come back?”

“That’s correct.” I nodded. 

“Permanently?”

“Very much.” I nodded. “I miss this place. I miss all of you. I think that working together, we can achieve more than if we were apart.”

“I’m very glad you think so.” Angel smiled. “Well. If that’s the case, then I see no reason to waste-”

 

“Angel, wait a second.” Fred interrupted him, frowning at me. “Ask him what his qualifications are.”

I fought to contain a laugh. Angel glanced at her, puzzled, then turned back to me. “Ok. Err… Wesley, what are your qualifications?”

“I speak, read, and write several dozen demonic languages and am an expert in both demonology and arcane lore.”

“That’s great.” Angel smiled. “Brilliant. Well, I’m sure we could use your expertise around-”

“And do you have any references?” Fred raised an eyebrow at me.

“Uhh…” Angel looked hopelessly confused. I’d been there.

 

“Define ‘reference’.” I steepled my fingers, leaning back in my chair.

“Does it really need definition?” Fred kept her eyebrow raised.

“I suppose not. I was just wondering whether-” How to put this delicately. “- a ringing, prolonged, _screaming_ endorsement of my talents by a current employee counted, or if you wanted something in writing?”

Fred, out of view of Angel, broke out into a smile, hiding it behind one hand. “Hmm. I suppose the first would suffice. Only if it happened more than once. So we knew it wasn’t a fluke.”

“Very well.” I turned to Angel. “May I submit my references tomorrow in that case?”

“You don’t even need…” Angel sighed following a cough from Fred. “Sure. Anything else?” He looked at Fred. She shook her head and (once he’d turned back around) winked at me. 

 

“Wesley?” Angel stood up.

“Angel?” I joined him.

Angel extended a hand. “Welcome back.”

I grinned and shook it. “Good to be back.” Angel grinned at me.

“Alright.” Angel let go of my hand. “Your first task as a newly reinstated employee is to go out and figure out what’s up with Cordy. She’s in a bad way, and won’t talk to us about it. You’ve known her longer.”

“I see. Alright.” I had a few ideas for getting her to open up. I stood up and walked to the door. I turned around, frowning. Angel had sat back down. Fred joined me in the doorway. “Angel… are you coming?”

 

“Nope.” Angel lent back in his chair.

“Cordelia tends to become irate when people get involved in her personal business.” I said tentatively.

“Ha. Yeah.” Angel nodded, grinning. Fred giggled.

I rolled my eyes. “Ah, the joys of being a dogsbody again.”

 

I walked out into the lobby. Now where was Cordelia…

 

Fred tackled me into a hug, squeezing me tightly, resting her head on my shoulder. Even taken partially by surprise, I had the presence of mind to hug her back. “Thank you.” Fred breathed.

“Whatever for?” I murmured, rubbing her back gently in the way I knew she adored.

“For coming back.” Fred buried her face in the crook of my shoulder. It made her voice slightly muffled, but in my view it was a sacrifice worth making. “You kept your promise to me.”

“How could I possibly not come back? With the way I feel about you?” I kissed the top of her head. “You’re my world.”

Fred looked up at me, smiling. “I really, _really_ love you.” 

“I really, really, love you too.” 

“I’m so happy I don’t have to miss you like a hole in my side anymore.” Fred smiled, then frowned. “That probably should been a sign for me much sooner. My bad.”

“That doesn’t matter.” I kissed her cheek. “We’re together now. And will be tomorrow. And the next day.”

“And the next day.”

“And the next day.”

“And the next day.”

“And the next day!”

“Truce?” I smiled. “To keep us getting caught in a loop forever.”

Fred laughed, smiling broadly. “Truce. _But_ , as far as me being hopelessly slow goes, please let me make it up to you? Later?” The look she gave me stirred some incredibly pleasant memories.

“Whatever you desire.” It was an easy request for me to adhere to. 

 

She smiled and kissed me. “We should probably go help Cordelia.” Fred sighed.

Oh, blast. Work. “Probably.” I admitted.

Fred frowned. “Thirty more seconds?”

“Sixty.”

“Done.” We wrapped ourselves into a tighter hug. By silent agreement, we disentangled ourselvesafter ninety seconds, minus her hand which I took and squeezed gently. She squeezed back.

 

Now, where was Cordelia?

 

“Lorne!” Ah, there she was. By the freezer. Which she’d opened.

“Yes, Cordy?” Lorne glanced over at her, wiping his brow.

“Where’s the rest of the ice cream?” She demanded, glaring at Lorne over the top of the freezer door. “I bought it yesterday, where is it?”

“That was, ah, the last of it Cordy.” Lorne swallowed. “All twelve tubs.” 

 

Holy hell. That would give Fred a run for her money. And Cordelia never, ever, binge ate. Ever. What was-

 

“You ate twelve tubs of ice cream?” Fred’s eyes widened. “Cordy, are you okay?”

I whispered softly in her ear. “Are you just jealous that she got to eat so much ice cream and you didn’t?”

“Oh, I am _very_ not jealous right now.” Fred shook her head.

“Really?” I raised an eyebrow.

“Definitely not.” Fred smiled, then stood on tiptoes to kiss me chastely. “I have something a lot better than ice cream to sate my appetite.”

I couldn’t help but smile: from Fred, that was high praise indeed. “Duly noted.” I bent down for a longer, more thorough-

 

“I CAN”T DO THIS ANYMORE!” Cordelia screamed. I leapt away from Fred, spinning to look at Cordelia. She slammed the freezer door closed, squared her shoulders, and shoved the top of the freezer as hard as she could. It teetered.

 

Then toppled to the floor with a loud crash.

 

“I have to deal with hunger!” Cordelia began pacing angrily. “I have to sleep, I have to use bathrooms, grapple with the futility of life, face the inevitability of death, I have no more ice cream, and it’s _ALL YOUR FAULT!”_

 

Cordelia jabbed a finger at Fred accusingly. “Cordy-cakes,” Lorne swallowed, raising his hands placatingly. “Muffin. What are you-”

“Shut it Lorne!” Cordy yelled. I frowned. What on earth was she going on about? I made eye contact with Fred, who looked as confused as I felt.

 

“And that’s another thing!” Cordelia jabbed a finger at us again, advancing purposefully towards us. I heard Angel emerge from his office behind us. “People like you! You’re _disgusting.”_

“Hey!” Fred frowned.

“Excuse me?” I felt my nostrils flare and took a step forward. I didn’t care what Cordy was going through, nobody got to talk to Fred like that.

 

Nobody.

 

“Oh, come on. You know you’re gross.” Cordelia shuddered and made a vomiting gesture. “The constant _touching_ and the _intimate looks_ , the raging tension, the _shameless snogging_ , I mean, what is wrong with you two? We have eyes! We have ears! Why do you have to throw your gross, inane human mating rituals into our faces?”

 

“Wait. Stop!” Angel yelled. We all turned to look at him. He frowned, looking at Cordelia. His eyebrows knit together. He’d figured it out. He knew what was going on with Cordelia, what to do. He must be about to tell us how to help Cordelia-

 

“You two are dating?” Angel looked between me and Fred, an expression of total shock on his face.

“KILL ME!” Cordy groaned, falling to her knees. “Please, for heaven’s sake, somebody _kill me right now!_ I can’t take this anymore! You mortals are so petty and stupid and blind! I can’t deal with you!” She started crying. We all stood there awkwardly for a moment. The four sane people exchanged looks. It boiled down to a lot of buck-passing, and went something like:

 

_Lorne, you’ve got empathic powers. Help her._

 

_I am not touching Queen Ice Cream n’ Mean with a ten-foot pole. Angel, you and Cordy have got the Kyrumption thing. You do it._

 

_We do not have Kyrumption! STOP SAYING THAT! Besides I don’t do… feelings! I suck at feelings! Wes should do it, I told him to handle this a minute ago! This is all his fault for not fixing this!_

 

_Fred, please. Fred, I beg you, I have no idea what to do here. Please, if you love me, save me._

 

_Oh, for crying out loud._

 

“Umm, Cordy?” Fred took a hesitant step forwards. “Hey. Listen. I don’t know exactly what… what prompted this, but we’re all here to help you. Is there anything we can do to-”

 

“YOU COULD HAVE NOT MADE THAT STUPID WISH SO THAT I COULD HAVE BEEN A _GOD!_ ” Cordy screamed at Fred, beating the floor with her fists. “BUT OH, NO. YOU JUST HAD TO INVOLVE A VENGEANCE DEMON. A _VENGEANCE DEMON!_ JUST HAD TO ALTER REALITY TO SUIT YOUR PETTY MORTAL WHIMS, RE-ALIGNING THE DIMENSIONS ENOUGH TO BLOCK MY BEAST’S RETURN FROM ITS BANISHMENT, AND NOW I’M STUCK AS A _CRAPPY HUMAN!_ ”

 

What was she-

 

Wait. Hold on. I looked at Fred. We spoke in unison. “Cassandra!”

“You’re the Higher Being whose plan she screwed up by granting Fred’s wish?” I demanded. Cordy nodded, sobbing weakly on the floor. I frowned. I’d never imagined a higher being looking quite so…

 

Pathetic. Or covered in ice cream. Her pyjamas, her face… She was _depressed_. The higher being was depressed that its plan had failed so it… it had put on pyjamas and ate ice cream. For a week. That was disquietingly human of it.

 

“What have you done with Cordy?” Fred demanded. “I swear, if you’ve hurt her-”

 

“You know what?” The being stepped upright, eyes flashing and I moved between it and Fred, cursing myself mentally for not bringing my wrist-mounted sword along. Always be prepared to fight a maniacal spiritual entity, even when you’re not expecting it. Especially then. If I got vaporised, it would be entirely deserved. “You can have her back! I don’t care!”

 

She drew herself upright, glaring around at us. “Humans SUCK! All of you, SUCK! This planet is a steaming garbage pile and I am OUT! No more! That is it! Take a good luck, because _THIS_ is the last divinity this planet will ever see! Enjoy your crapsack of a planet, pathetic mortals!”

 

A flash of green light emanated from Cordy and she collapsed to the floor, groaning. Angel leapt forwards to steady her. “Okay, you two.” Lorne frowned at Fred and I. “I’m gonna be diplomatic here. What the fritz just happened?”

“Cordelia picked up a stowaway on that higher plane.” I murmured. “Something with a plan to rule the world. An intricate, complex plan vulnerable to derailment. So when that vengeance demon granted Fred’s wish-”

“It knocked enough dimensions out of alignment to screw up the master plan.” Fred frowned. “So instead of pulling off a grand scheme and becoming a god…”

“It ended up facing the prospect of living out life as a human.” I mused. “Clearly it couldn’t handle the pressure.”

 

“Oh, _God_.” Cordelia groaned, clutching her side. “It hurts. Everything hurts.” 

“Some residual energy overflow is to be expected,” I murmured: after all, she’d been possessed by a very powerful being. “Where does it hurt specifically?”

“My _head!_ ” Cordy made a sound like a dying whale. “My _stomach!_ ”

“Right.” I nodded. So that was most likely… of course. It was obvious. “Lorne, get me six bananas, a carton of skimmed - it has to be skimmed - milk, and a tin of curry powder. We need to neutralise the mystical energy passing through her brain before she-”

 

“Wes.” Fred looked like she was trying very hard not to laugh. “It’s the _ice cream_.”

 

I blinked. 

 

I laughed out loud, clutching my sides. Fred burst into laughter too and I wrapped her in a hug, revelling in the feeling of her gasping with laughter as she clung to me. 

 

“For the record.” I drew back once Fred’s giggles had subsided, twining a curl of her hair around one finger and looking into her eyes. “I _can_ still see divinity.” 

Fred flushed. “Aww.” I smiled. She smiled back. “Well, go on then.” She breathed. My smile widened, and I bent down to-

 

“CONGRATS YOU GUYS!” Cordy yelled. Fred started, moving away from me - that made thrice I’d been denied! Truly this was a cruel world - and I turned to look reproachfully at Cordelia.

 

Who was looking _very_ reproachfully at _us_. “I mean really, I’m _super_ happy for you, but _hello??_ I am a _possession victim_ and I need help! Pronto!”

“Right.” I nodded sheepishly. “I agree.”

“I don’t.” Fred mumbled sulkily, then murmured so softly only I could hear her. “Later?”

“Soon.” I muttered back.

 

Her answering smile was as wide as my own. I stepped forwards to help Cordelia.

 

\+ + + + + + +

 

**Fred - One Month Later**

 

I smoothed down my dress anxiously, then smoothed down the apron (a gift from Wesley some time ago, which naturally read ‘Kiss the Cook’, an instruction he _never_ hesitated to follow) I was wearing over the dress slightly more anxiously and stirred the gumbo downright nervously. “Wesley!” I called out. “Give me some good news!”

 

“The group have left the hotel.” Wesley announced, straightening up from where he’d finished setting the table and slipping his phone into one pocket. “Finally.”

“Thank God.” I grinned. “They know how to cut it fine.”

“It’s an unfortunate side effect of continually saving the day in the nick of time.” Wesley shrugged and I giggled. “Is there anything I can do to help you?”

“Well,” I frowned. “There is this one spot on the back of my neck…”

 

Wesley smiled and walked over to press a kiss to the back of my neck. “There?”

“No.” I smiled.

“There?”

“Nope.”

“There?”

“Not even close!”

Wesley’s eyes gleamed. “There?”

I smiled at the pleasant sensation of his lips on my skin. “That’s the one.” Wesley laughed quietly and pressed a kiss to the back of my head. I let go of the spoon and happily relaxed back into his arms. “Thanks for getting that for me.”  
“No problem.” Wesley’s smile was almost impossibly wide, and he was clearly struggling not to burst into laughter at my maintenance of the impossibly thin pretext. “Think of it as a ‘thank you’ for finding me a job.”

“You’re very welcome.” I grinned. 

“Even if you made the interview difficult. And the pay isn’t good.” Wesley mused. “My boss likes to brood, one of my coworkers sings far too much and I’m in mortal danger almost constantly…”

“Hush.” I silenced him with a kiss. “You love being back.”

“I only love _you_.” Wesley replied, squeezing me tight. My stomach did a backflip. “But being back at Angel Investigations is certainly welcome.”

“And I gave you a _great_ reference.” I pointed out. 

“I did have to work very hard to get that.” His eyes gleamed and a smug smile curled his lips.

God he looked so very kissable. “And didn’t you love every second of it?"

 

The doorbell rang before he could answer (hint: he would have said ‘yes’). I nodded to the door and Wesley sighed, disengaging and walking towards the door. “If I stopped hugging you for anyone other than a guest,” He muttered. “I’m going to be very cross.” He opened the door.

 

“Hey, Wesley!” Cordelia smiled and held up a bottle. “I brought my share!”

“Hey, Cordy!” I waved. Cordy waved back.

“Welcome to our humble abode.” I heard Cordelia walk in. “Now make sure to take your shoes off, Fred’s very protective of her fluffy rug-”

“What did my fluffy rug ever do to you?” I demanded.

“It ruined my mysterious badass routine.” Wesley grinned at me. “Hard to pull off ‘intimidating stranger in a doorway’ when the visitor can see a fluffy rug just inside the room.”

 

“That smells great, Fred.” Cordelia nimbly cut us off, walking up to the pot and inhaling deeply. “Is that Gumbo?”

“Yep!” I nodded. “Vegetables, meat, seafood, bacon… it’s got everything!”

“I haven’t smelled anything this good since I returned from a Higher Plane.” Cordelia smiled, mouth practically watering. 

“You say that every other week.” Wesley pointed out. I glared at him. “Which isn’t to say that your cooking isn’t a perpetual gift that I appreciate beyond the paltry power of mere words to express.” He finished hurriedly. I smiled sweetly.

Cordelia coughed. “Sorry I’m…. agh… choking… dying… please… stop… before I… throw up…”

 

Wesley chuckled and I giggled.

 

“This is why all of us try to never arrive first for these things.” Cordy grouched. “When you arrive as part of a pack, it’s fine because you can hide and pointedly focus on other people. When somebody’s alone with you two there’s no escape. It’s terrible.”

“Do either of you want to eat my gumbo? Because this isn’t the way to go about getting it!” I declared incredulously, glaring at Cordelia. She nodded sheepishly. “You know, if I hadn’t made my wish…” 

 

Cordelia groaned. “I swear, if you use the ‘if I hadn’t made my wish and accidentally prevented an apocalypse by disrupting your possessor’s grand master plan you’d still be a meat puppet’ argument _one more time…_ ” Cordy had related to us the tale of being trapped inside her own body, unable to fight as the higher being did whatever it wanted. Which had mostly consisted of eating ice cream and moping around after I made my wish.

 

Cordy hadn’t touched a dessert since. 

 

“Would either of you two like a glass of this fine _alcoholic_ beverage?” Wesley asked diplomatically, inserting himself between Cordy and me. 

“Don’t mind if I do.” I smiled. 

Cordelia rolled her eyes. “Count me in too.” Wesley smiled as he poured three glasses, then picked up two and handed me one, never breaking eye contact.

“Cheers.” He said softly raising his glass.

“Cheers.” I smiled, clinking our glasses together and drinking. 

 

Cordelia made a vomiting noise just as the doorbell rang.

 

“Oh my God, people!” She gasped, running for the door and opening it. “Actual, normal people!” 

“Surprise!” Lorne called out, striding into the apartment, followed in short order by Angel, Charles and Connor. “Did you miss me?”

“I’m not sure it counts as a surprise if we invited you, does it?” Wesley questioned.

Lorne ignored his remark. “Ooh, what is cooking, good-looking?” He hovered over the pot, then paused and grinned at me. “You know, I think that’s the first time I’ve used that saying completely literally. Go me!”

“Gumbo.” I grinned. “Wesley found the recipe.”  
“He didn’t do any of the cooking, did he?” Lorne asked in a stage whisper. Everyone burst out laughing, even Wesley.

“Don’t worry.” I tapped the side of the pot with the spoon. “It’s all me. Get seated everyone, it’s almost ready!”

 

“Where can I get me a drink…” Lorne murmured, then his eyes caught on the bottle Cordy had brought and he grinned, pouring himself a glass, which he proceeded to down. He began pouring himself another.

 

“Welcome, Angel. Connor. Gunn.” Wesley shook each of their hands in turn, to progressively less sunny smiles. Things were still tense in the group. I mean, how could they not be? After Connor left Angel at the bottom of the ocean and… everything that had happened with Charles and Wesley and me, there was always going to be strain. But we were working through it.

 

And the rotating weekly dinner party schedule certainly helped matters! “Angel, your blood is in the fridge.” I tapped the door with my foot and Angel nodded gratefully, stooping to retrieve it.

“That smells good, Fred.” He nodded to the gumbo.

I raised an eyebrow. “Not to you it doesn’t. To you it smells awful.”

“I mean, sure.” Angel hesitated. “But I’m sure that to y’know, ordinary human beings with a regularly developed sense of smell it smells great, I mean just look at it, it’s… colourful. And there’s so much sauce. It’s clearly amazing.” Oh, Angel. 

 

“Connor, can you please leave the sword by the door?” Wesley asked calmly. Connor rolled his eyes and put the sword he was wearing in his belt at the door.

“Happy?” He asked.

“And the dagger.” Connor retrieved a dagger from his shoe and put it with the sword. “And whatever new weapon is concealed in your other shoe.” Connor obliged, looking sheepish. “Good. The only thing we want to risk killing anyone tonight is Fred’s cooking.” I glared at him and tried very hard not to laugh. He was _so_ going to pay for that later. And the annoyingly cute amused look he was giving me was not doing anything to mitigate his punishment, no sir. It was unfair that he looked cute when he was gently mocking me. 

 

“Smells good, Fred.” Charles announced, sitting down next to Lorne at the table. 

“Thanks.” I managed a small smile. “Let’s just hope it tastes as good as it smells.”

“If it does, we are going to have a problem.” Wesley murmured, having moved behind me.

“Oh?” I grinned. “What problem?”

“I might just have to get you to cook more often.” Wesley’s eyes gleamed.

I shook my head firmly. “You are still cooking four nights a week until you’ve improved, no ifs, no buts, no puppy eyes. That was the deal we made and we are sticking to it.”

“What if I want to renegotiate?” Wesley asked.

“Then you’d better find yourself a magic lamp or a vengeance demon, because nothing other than serious reality-alteration is going to get me to change my mind.”

 

“Hmm.” Wesley growled softly and placed a kiss on the back of my neck. “Is that your way of saying all I have to do to get a better deal is shake your world? I can do that tonight. If you’d like…”

I flushed bright red and tried not to think about what he’d said. It didn’t work. “Later.” I said weakly, sure I was flushing. “Dinner first.” Wesley sighed good-naturedly and I shivered despite myself as his thumb traced the back of my neck.

 

“Get a room!” Lorne yelled. 

“No.” Cordy shook her head. “Bring us dinner, _then_ get a room.”

I rolled my eyes. My friends were impossible. 

 

But after Wesley had served up dinner (giving me an extra large portion), made me laugh at multiple anecdotes over dinner, made sure everyone got home alright, cleaned up all the cutlery and crockery while I relaxed on the sofa, then kissed me with unbridled passion and whispered in my ear: “Where were we?”, I concluded that only Wesley was impossibly wonderful.

 

And that we were impossibly happy together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so concludes Sugar and Ice. Thanks to everyone who got this far, and especially to everyone who shared feedback :) I really hope you enjoyed the story! If you have any final thoughts / constructive criticisms please do share them!
> 
> If not, then until next time, enjoy!

**Author's Note:**

> For the avoidance of doubt, full sentences in italics are Lilah's voice.
> 
> Feedback is welcomed, appreciated and desired!


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